tell me something else

tell me about the tsunami trapped behind your glassy left eye
tell me how the waves strip you naked everyday
but the volcano erupted years ago
and the sky is still roaring
your heart is still shaking
tell me how the death toll is forty-four
but the population has always been one
tell me how the waves rise faster than you can swim towards dry land
so you raise your white flag
but it's transparent to roaming eyes
and invisible to shadowy search parties

tell me how you keep your eyes open because you want to see your destruction in all its glow

and feel your edges as you're swallowed whole

tell me about the wildfire burning in your dry right eye

tell me how it's 0% contained

and the wind is blowing in all directions

tell me how the smokejumpers gave up on you when the fire was small

and you gave up on yourself before you saw the sparks

tell me how the planes flew right over you because the whole world is burning to the ground

and it was too late for any solace

tell me how you're ashes and dust

tell me how you're pulverized

but the cinders still spell out S.O.S

tell me how the smoke doesn't care about your plea

tell me how you think this is hell but you never believed in heaven

tell me about the stars on your tongue
tell me how they itch to radiate their light
because someone once told you they're beacons
but your lips refuse to give them that freedom
and the staircase in your throat
is getting steeper and more jagged for words to climb
tell me how it's not a civil war anymore because your heart has always lived in Antarctica
and your mind is somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle

tell me about the dried blood in your flaring right nostril

and the sunny-side up ooze in your raw left one

tell me about the wild jungle in your left ear

and how the eyeless sounds multiply when you think you've stumbled upon a clearing

tell me about the salty sea in your right ear

and how you're made of erosion

tell me how the carelessness gets you more than effort ever has

tell me something

tell me anything

because the quiet can be savage

and you keep stepping on pins and needles

reaching for a rush

reaching for a reason

your shoulder blades more familiar to me than the color of your eyes

and I'll keep following you

I'll be right behind you

waiting for something

waiting for anything