I can hear your whisper and sighs, as you bellow and roll.
There is that ache in you again, Little Christian. A gnawing at your stomach to eat something filling. The growl of your soul. I see that your feet are peeling and blood fills those little leather cracks. Where did you get those bruises girl? How much farther do you have to go? You have white crust on your blistered lips and that bitter taste contorts your desert tongue. I can see your bones drying from here. I can hear your bones rattle from here. I will carry your bones away from here. I will breathe on your bones and flesh reappears.
About the Author
TAYLOR OREN is a writer exploring spirituality through the lens of psychology. She grew up in a small town where asking deep and difficult questions was a low priority.
As an adult, Taylor uses writing to explore why we are the way we are and how we can become all that we want to be.