Ride

 I traveled for years only to end up in this desert. Thirsty, cruel, uncertain, constantly shifting dunes. There is scorching heat, my insights are displaced, my entire existence disheveled. I try to walk or at least crawl but the sand keeps shifting, even after hours of labor I am where I landed. I struggle and shout on top of my voice to find someone who'd listen but there is nobody with the kind of ears and brains that could receive and interpret the voice that my cords are capable of producing. We are wrong. We are wrong. We can't exist together. 

A truck passes by, adorned with art, some poetry about a rude and indifferent beloved, a couplet about the home that's far away. This reminds me my home is lost. So I give up on the effort of walking and start looking for my home instead. I can surprisingly walk now that I have given up on it, the sand is letting me walk but I can't find my home now. I don't even remember how it looks like which makes it almost impossible to find. 

I look for familiar faces but they're deformed, almost unrecognizable.

The monsters change forms here but they're constant....like the sand, constant but shifting. There but not there.

It starts to rain suddenly. The blue sky turns grey and then red. The rainwater changes into blood somehow but it's sweet. I cry harder as I realize I am drinking blood without knowing that I am. I loathe myself. I try to run but the storm is so strong, I can't sit still. I am floating in uncertainty.

I am not allowed to enter my home. It's heavily guarded by armed men. I am frail. I am not enough. I am not what they want me to be so I cant enter. I start to speak gibberish. I slowly stop recognizing myself. 

Where is my oasis? Do I even deserve an oasis?

I open my eyes in a place called home but there is sand all around me.

I wake up again in hope of a new place. I shout and wake up again. Same place. Panic. I wake up again. Same. Shout. Run. Wake up. Compromise. Compensate. Sabr. One word. Sabr.