It dreams of desert landscapes and clear blue skies.
Bright colours and cooling waters.
My body says no.
Forbids such indulgences.
I know it's quest is self protection.
My brain tries to arbitrate.
It offers changing clouds, calming rain, books and tea,
to soothe my crying soul.
Protest for now is silenced.
A truce is formed.
It won't last, this internal war is eternal.
This was written as part of Dark Poetry month hosted by Magaly Guerrero.
