Heavy like clouds

Rough stone, as cold as our hearts that hurt.
Weathered by the life we chose. Dropped into the pool of time.
Weighing down. Hard like bones in our stomach.
From the meaty dreams devoured in youth.
Rain upon a fertile mind, where the weeds and willows weep.
And where cacti bloom in the drought of purity.
Our own selves, no longer true as a shadow of regret reminds;
that we’re locked and dying in the jaws of time.

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7 thoughts on “Heavy like clouds

  1. Very beautiful! Really drawn to the vision of the cacti blooming in the drought of purity. And the art is interesting in a surreal way. Who is it by?

    Like

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