THERE IS A PLACE

There is a place where no water runs

And in storms no rain falls

Not a drop

No wetness.

Nothing grows

And practically nothing can survive

 

 

There are no houses, no one lives here.

And in raging storms, no rain falls.

It’s arid. Its dry and parched.

In storms no rain falls.

No wetness and no rivers flow.

 

 

A shore that ran away from the sea,

Had itself;

Saved itself,

And most of all trapped itself.

 

 

Each day it grows more arid.

Stretches out to soak up dampness

And turns dampness dry.

 

 

It grows bigger day by day

The vast parched landscape.

Parched and resembling the sea.

 

 

In the distance, you sense you see waves

A blueness

A mirage

You can feel the sensations of falling into the blue

How beautiful it could feel

To your now parched and arid skin.

 

 

But, it is not what it would seem

Everything is dry here

There is no sea

No blue to soak your body in.

 

 

Always in the distance

You know you can see the sea

Ocean waves are before you

Each step brings you closer

And each step takes you away.

 

 

It is so arid

You yearn for moisture

A wetting from the sea

No rivers flow here

No rain falls in a storm

No true ocean waves

Nothing really lives here

 

 

 

It is a lonely place.

The silence of domestic abuse