Dusty Days & Nostalgic Nights

Dusty Days & Nostalgic Nights

By: Tyler Ross

The fiery sun fries my legs. The dust builds upon hours and hours of desolate country days. My body feels wasted from weeks of ailing hunger pains. My mother’s sick and I can’t seem to focus or escape from how I’ve behaved. Fear for what lies ahead. But I won’t give up for I refuse to be dead. In a world to survive is not guaranteed. I strive and I strive to feel alive for this bigger picture I fight to see. The pale moon strikes me with its vivid radiance. I resonate with those lost souls who have discovered nothing and lost their innocence. I hunt to live, but the pit of my stomach rejects bile. I spill my guts and take on a life that suits my father’s style. I’ve been broken and I know it will get worse, but it won’t get the best of me. As we travel this journey out west for the pacific’s shimmering salty sea. This was never meant for me. Months have gone by and we have yet to reach our destiny. Still I am far from living free and away from the vision my family sees. Settling for less was never meant for me. This was never meant for me.