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Its harder being sad in the desert
The wind bites instead of hugs
The voices of people who shouldn’t have been there in the first place, dug their heels in and decided to die just to spite the people who told them to leave
My ancestors don’t whisper in the long pull of an American Spirit, not out here
My grandfathers voice doesn’t sit at the bottom of that bottle of Jack saying “girl if you don’t straighten up”
Its harder to be sad in the sands and scrub
Its barren and cold
You cant get away from your emotions by walking through the trees and just crying out to the leaves, telling the wind to take your sorrow
Theres just sand, sand and dry
I guess that’s one thing about being sad in the desert,
The tears evaporate right off your face like the desert is taking everything from you, even the salt and water from your tears, even the salt in your blood you give to the desert it takes and takes
Doesn’t think about what to leave so you can keep on surviving so it can take again tomorrow
Its harder to be sad in the desert