​Treat Me Like The Desert

Treat me like the desert.

Come get lost in me. Come unprepared, come lonely, come angry. Come with your boots ripped and your mouth bloody and your knuckles bruised. Come defeated. Come limping. Come with dull eyes and a bag over your shoulder full of life half-lived. Patchwork pieces of your world falling behind you and cracking on the ground. Come like a drought with your throat raw, and quicksand in your hair because you have been sinking for too long, voice hoarse from calling for help and being unheard. Come screaming or come silent, come like a shadow meant to block out the sun, matches in hand ready to lose it all. Come to me to conquer or to surrender.

Come with embers in your hair, steps smoldering, skin ashen. Come fever-bright, and glistening. Come exhausted. Come with a fire you stomped out yourself. Come with unfulfilled promises etched into your skin. Come burning and wrathful. Come to me like a last breath in smoke filled lungs, intoxicated and suffocating. Blood borne and burning. Come to me on a high that leaves everything altered.

Come with honeyed words, lips painted with lies. Come to me with your blade sharp tongue and jagged edges. Come to me to carve your words in, come to leave a permanent mark. Come to me in the depth of your darkness without a whisper of light. Indelible like ink spread across the night. Footprints on your back from being trampled time and time again.

Come because you are tired. Come because you will rise. Let me blow on your flames until my lungs burn.

Come to me, like you come to the desert.