I couldn't stop the river pouring from my heart because if I share my water with you, you'll pour your water into me.
But you are holding like a dam.
Downstream I dry up and the ground cracks but I continue squeezing until you absorb the last drop and go on your way, hydrated and looking for your next drink.
But you won't look at me.
I was left like dry bones in the desert, vultures pick at my flesh, dreaming of green and vibrancy.
I only wish I had watered the earth in my own backyard and waited until someone else came along, and offered me their own water in exchange for mine.
An Equal Osmosis.
But now I am in my garden, tending to the blooms and conserving my water for myself until the next rain comes,
And I see the storm clouds closing in.
