have you ever whispered

affirmations to yourself in the

waning hours of night

knowing in your heart

you are dying?

you learn to

semi-conciously compact

and contort the agony

while a drought forms

in your soul

and then one day

it's always been there,

and you aren't who you

remember, who you suffer

to be again

sand storms in

the dark, howling fury--

a chamber of echoes,

and your two feet: broken

dousing rods.