“i will die”
by Melisa Santana
the crunching of bones beneath the soles of these shoes
reaping soul from brittle tissue near fully decomposed, leave
with nothing but the sorrow i invoke with every step that i take
in harrowing fields or open roads or broken homes and
locations long abandoned, dutifully disposed as if walking away
ensures a ticket to heaven or a vacation to hell or a life
lived out of spotlights or headlights or shadows, lived pleasantly
unfulfilled, words whispered without fear or consequence, bodies
shattered into incomprehensible pieces as i wander overtop
my own grave – every inch of this earth. i will die here.
