Sweat reaches down my neck like a noose. I’m a prisoner to this heat and it’s here for the taking. I’m it’s prey and it loves a good hunt. Midwestern soil stuck underneath my fingernails. The dirt hardens from all the damage- I guess I do too.

I breath out poison so that it can fill someone else’s lungs- and after all this time we wonder why we feel so fucking sick.

This is the empty spaces filled with skeletons- I’m not sure why the earth decides to keep them whole, but the bones glisten in the daytime and glow in the dark. This is the catalyst- heat rising so I stay real low where the moon begins to show its palms in surrendering to the start. This is something holy and I don’t feel worthy- Like a town secret that we all know about, but don’t speak of. Don’t write it down. Don’t even think about it.

Yesterday, I told you, “being stuck here is a choice- you have to walk through the outskirts to get out”. Sweat dripping from your forehead like a crown- you turned to me and said, “but I’m here for the taking”.AMT