I never learn. I choose to get burned, over and again. I give it the match and kindly watch as it lights my skin on fire. I breathe, I take in the moment. I feed our silence with my distressed voice. I tried. I really tried. I died, and I died. And it pathetically was without comforting words. It spoke nothing. It left me nothing to hold onto. No single word, even a letter would mean the very world.

Silence, and we fell silent. A thousand words it did not speak. My dried eyes knew only how to weep. A waterless weep. The heat of a warming desert dried me. It provided the warmth that it refused to give. It gave me everything, and then more of which I had no need. Is it wrong to need?

I stand disappointed. Disappointed in all that I was. I spoke dishonest feelings, and I breathed in false hope. I breathed it in. I wanted it to care. But now, I do not want it. I do not want it to exist. I want this all to end. I want to go away. For years, and maybe a hundred will do. I want to forget a sense of known-ness. I want to run. I long to run away. I want the sand to stop burning my toes. I want to feel breathless. I want to stop making a fool of myself. Here I am wanting, and the heat brings us to an end.

The arabian desert, and I will love you in the silence.