Thursday, 5 April 2018
Sahara Desert 

My scars are not yours to star at,  
they are signs of a Sahara desert 
that ran dry for so long,
that I had to dig deep to find signs of life,
that dry land can crack, down to it's hollow core
and it isn't water that pours out.
Because the cracks go on for miles and miles
across a skin I call home. 
Eventually the rains came 
but nothing can erase the trails
of a drought that once lived within


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