I can't even breath without a thought. I can't even drive through the town without a thought. As much as I wish for the flow of things to return I cannot seem to look by. It is like a breath, the sleep I sleep, the thoughts I think, the food I eat and the phone I speak. Seems to be that I cannot get it out. It hurts to know that the rivers have dried, the air is unbreathable, the sleep is tainted, and the thoughts erratic. If only birds understood maybe they would know where to go but yet they stay. The rain that we danced upon burn my skin and make me quench for thirst but there isn't much that can quench the fire from within. Only the coolness of the knowing can make it sooth and put the fires at ease but there is always a candle in the windows.