The cornfields ran out.
The land turned to dry scrub and stones.
I pull off the road, get out.
Cacti stand over me in the dark.

I open the guitar case.
The wood’s scarred, the strings rusted.
I don’t touch it. Don’t play.
Let the guitar breathe.

Engine’s ticking as it cools.
Dirt’s cold, pebbles dig into my back.

Moon’s a sliver of bone.
The sky a dome of stars.
Myriad points of light,
Cold eyes in the dark.

Some junkie.
That’s what I am.

I reach for the nightmares
That used to be my friends.
Red hair in the dirt,
Your corpse, your bones.
I put you there.
They won’t come.

Rope tied to my chest.
Nothing on the other end.
I dig my fingers in,
Hold on to stones.

Our houses. The space between.
That day I saw you first.
We walked around together.
Bought you cupcakes at the bakery.

I would help you be happy.
I would help you be brave.
I would help you enjoy everything
You were afraid to touch.

I wanted to eat you
So you couldn’t leave.