The Desert Cripples You.

I live in Arizona, where the temperature was 111 F the other day. This poem is about how I would LOVE to get out of here.

When you're in this desert for decades,

Your sweat is what begins to nourish the cacti.

Your veins feel like dried out rivers

And your cells wither with the flowers.

I have grown in this desert,

My eyebrows damp with sweat in the summer,

My teeth chattering in the winter.

I wish I could be a slave to the green of the midwest,

Or the salty air of San Francisco.

Someday it will be time to leave,
And I look forward to that day.

Author's Note

I'm very sorry for not posting much! I will have more poems very soon. :)