Desert - Heather Woods Broderick

these days been house ridden

couch sitting in a cold mind

the long silence of the dim type

an old man breathing in the room next to mine

i spoke it with fever

put my foot down against reconcilable blame

still i dream in a desert

of a heart that’s been drowning in shame

the truth of the matter

is from the shadows it was staring me in the face

would have lost myself in the desert

of the hearts that lie tarnishing, debased

wits quitting, all the shit’s spinning

and fists swinging under wooled eyes

a tall shadow of the blind type

the fold or the forfeit

all past times of mine

you heard it through the ether

a still riding, melancholic hue

you dreamt in light empyreal

of my heart, would be coming home to you

until you face the matter

from the shadows had been staring us in the face

you will sleep in a desert

and your heart will lie honorably disgraced