Sacrifice I must

This cannot be real.
this cannot be true 
allow me to awaken
from this nightmare.
Pull in close
lock the door
bar the windows
love lives here no more.
Not even willing
not even a chance
that I am willing
to allow myself to live
to allow myself to love
pain
too much to take
burned one too many times.
She blew in during the night
sashaying
hips swaying
lust first filled my veins
I opened the door to let her in.
Talk
talk
talk
I could listen to her forever
her hopes
her dreams
her needs
her desires
suddenly…..
There was…..
there is no turning back.
She has wormed her way under my skin
becoming an oasis
a warm shelter
that I crave
even as I push her away.
This cannot be real.
This cannot be true.
Even as I watch her walk away
I feel her pain.
She walks on
with nary a glance back
so I see not her tears.
She shall never know
my heart rended
I know this is what I must do.
For her.
 
©Nov. 26/19
Picture via Pinterest

Waste/Safe Land

***This poem is a continuation from River Styx and Desert Red
Travelling the desert
a hundred days
I felt sand
scouring
flaying
devouring
flesh from my bones
molding
forming
another me.
Peddlar man
quiet
plodding along
but inherently
seeking oasis after oasis
as I needed rest.
he refused to answer
any
all
cajoling
questions.
Shaking his head
not in annoyance
more like a parent indulging their child.
We crested that last sandhill
my mouth fell open
a silent o
as before us
spread out
a verdant sea
tears spilling down my face.
Sept. 15/18
Photo by Robert Lukeman on Unsplash