her heart
couldn’t see past
the golden fields

the yearning for home
meant a long road
preferred not taken

sorrow
is not something easily shed
it lingers
in the crevasses and cavities
of the cerebellum

almost forgotten
till the sky spit
it’s warm droplets

my head
feels heavier
than most days
lifting off the pillow
a strain
sending an uncomfortable feeling
down the spine
rolling over
no relief
falling back to
a dream-state
the answer
limbs won’t move
eyes won’t focus
head is leaning