The Wilderness of it all

Photo by Kate Shash on Unsplash

A collaborative poem by the Incandescent Review Creative Writing Team

A river bend, a gleaming minnow, eternity

—the three things I was told I would find when I escaped.

Yet, now the sun falls and grounds before me bear nothing.

All that remains is this wildness in my throat and eyelashes

scattered all over thousand-year-old sinks.

Dusk encroaches, and as the shadows sharpen so does my fear—

lost, lost, lost cackles the demon in my mind,

And still the moon is only the caricature of some forgotten god’s visage…

And as I stand under god’s forgotten gift whispering into my ear,

for i had waited for an eternity or for a second

for these three promises to be bestowed to me; a constant reminder of

the past—rushing by like saplings thrown against the wind—

but I have time on my side, I tell myself.

Still, I’m unable to convince myself—unable to forgive,

yet I continue to pull at my lashes, teeth, brittle nails and wait for

the ones who will not be found. And what are promises if not for

distrust; only made to be broken--

...