Flood waters receding as mud engulfs my feet. I’m not sure if it will save me or take me its thick and it reeks. It sloshes and splatters as it hits my skin. It dries, it cracks, it flakes. It hits my face I scream. Not a grave! Not a grave! I take a step and its all the same. Will I sink or will I gain? I see no end in sight no matter the prayers I pray. I look back and my tracks are gone. Muck has wiped them away. Oh my God! I’m stuck! Although my toes are pointing straight and my steps have been purposely placed. I’ve been trudging so long my feet are heavy. I’ve been pleading so long come back and get me! You left me at the creek where this all began. Each step I’ve taken has lead me to dread. I can’t comprehend, that you’re dead. How am I suppose to celebrate you while I’m standing in mire? The stench it gags me. I breathe, I wretch, I’m so DAM tired! You should be turning 29 but all you gave me was 25. I’ve been walking year after year and all I’ve gained is mud, muck and tears. I’m not sure which haunts me more, water impossible to swim or the mud at my feet that holds me in? All I know is here I am. Clinging to your 25 where even your legacy won’t keep you alive. Mud, muck and mire are now mine instead of you turning 29!
CE 2/19