The World In Dust

The world was made to swallow me

It’s darknesses-

talons that dig under my skin

or knocks on a door

unassuming

I rely on the kindness of strangers

who I know deeply

profoundly

you can’t know someone until they unfurl

delicately at first- a crocus, the first signs of spring

Then the raging storm, howling winds

I wonder if loneliness is your own escape

if strangers do walk beside you

I never fully know how I feel

emptiness

the kind that is bliss, full-

the kind that is somber, sinking-

into the dust