And as the fires swallowed my cries I opened my eyes to face life’s lies. I closed my heart and gave up tries for a prize: to accept failures without whys and be wise to break ties and move in smaller gyres to avoid fires and flat tires caused by familiar mires.

Empty Days

Days running like an empty sheet of paper – uninked. An unlived hours of living – as dry as the desert. Nothing to feel; not famished or parched. This days when there’s no memory to remember. Nothing but an empty well.…