Sahara Confessional

I confess to my emptiness,

my deserted insides

grinding into Nevada sand.

With the scornful wind,

creating a storm:

The loneliness lizards run through

my rib cage where pride,

like rotting flesh

falls to the ground.

It disinagrates

off my nocturnal skeleton,

unlike my hope.

Sweeping my anatomy

brewing something obscure

with Sahara scars.

My loneliness confessional

brought me just one thing:

a raging desert storm

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Everyone I Know Goes Away In The End: NIN (Hurt)

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9inety's picture

There is something about your poetry

almost ancient, like a mystical forgotten chronicle in a dusty, leather-bound book. It is clear that that you plunge into deep places with mighty authority; like an old sage and your words if given over to voice would be as if the whispers of winds that relate tales of the ages.Your words take the reader to a place where reflection comes easily as one might stare out to the horizon.
I notice that you have not posted any work recently, tis a shame…
Stay safe
Be happy

"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"

Dylan Eliot