Desalento

Who will penetrate these tightening muscles? Who will cut across this dickering skin? Who will be the one to leave their hand in and pull me out my golden heart? Who will? Who will? Who will? From all the ashes of home, the crashes. Who will be the one? Who will lay me down in green pastures or leave me from the burning sands, who will be the one to lay their cards down and always hope a whining hand. Who will? Who will? Who will be the one?