A valley of heartache.
A simple yet unyielding low point.
I have the power to move mountains but I stand still.
Basking in the beautiful, dead wasteland.
Watching flowers turn to ash in controlled burns.
Taking whatever hard teaching I’m supposed to learn.
Maybe learning that what I’m doing is wrong.
Finding that I’m the savior and the enemy.
Standing still in the middle of a storm.
Wishing patience didn’t mean simply waiting.
Hoping to catch rain like I caught your eye.
So I call out to you.
A picture painted on the sunset of my happiness.
The beginning of a downward spiral.
Something that should’ve just stayed a painting.
Admired, loved but never an entry into a new reality.
Stumble with me, scrape a couple knees.
I know these roads like the I used to know my purpose.
I know you like you don’t know yourself.
And so we become what we were supposed to be.
Living sacrifices played out like tragedies.
We’re the hero and the villain in this story.
Echo chambers reflecting back what we already know.
That our heads are messy with misunderstood desires.
And our hearts lack the serenity to slow down.
For a minute, even for a narrow second.
Stop and think about the fallout while we fall.
I take blame for setting the match to us.
But you’re the one who became a wildfire.
Take me with you while you burn down.
Anywhere but stalling with my back to the desert.
The love I seek resides in me.
Hid away under lock and key.
Melt away every piece until it’s all that’s left.

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