the Turning to tears

I stare blankly out at grey skies
threatening long overdue rain,
numb to the passing of hours
that have turned into years-
this separation from higher powers
I have conveniently forgotten I possess.

For as long as you have known me
I have been lost in a Wilderness
you claim does not exist for most people.
You beg me to re-examine carefully
the events that led up to my,
and I quote you,
self-imposed exile;
that in the process I will find my way
out of the circle of darkness I travel.
You fail to realize that I have been dropping breadcrumbs,
spare change, seashells,
and anything else I can pull from my pockets
in the hope that I may someday
want to find my way back.

I am running out of dreams
to dash against the towering walls of my illusions,
running out of hearts to break in two;
feeling more & more alone
yet all the while surrounded by people
who say they know me,
who say they love me?

-my
God-

I don’t know where I belong right now,
or what shall become of me
after the Turning to tears;
but I can sit here at my window on rolling ocean fog,
and remember blue sky, the
storm/garden
days of gingerbread.