Alamere, am I gonna die now?
There are times in our life when we should not go on a 16-mi hike alone without ample water — this is a lyrical poem that describes that wonky day.
Closer to my deadline and further from my goal
Twenty-five is turning out to be less than I’d hope
I thought I was going to die, I was so high
Running through the woods as if I could fly
Trying to get back to the ranch
Seeking that blond-haloed goddess
who will keep me from death
Rushing to get out of this place
so I can finally be safe
Before I pass out
I’m close to dehydration, I can’t tie my boots
I got to keep moving
So I don’t lose my shoes
Skipping through sand, my legs made of stone
I am becoming granite,
My muscles taut,
Like moving through peanut butter,
I’m stuck –
A sepia-toned video of loved ones
obscures my vision of the trees,
I can’t help thinking,
“they ain’t gonna see me”
I keep checking my map,
Not sure of the direction,
Am I on the right path?
I still have time to reach heaven,
But I’m tripping and falling,
I can’t seem to get out,
My legs don’t want to work,
Is this how I’ll die now?
The blue in the sky is so bright
I am fighting the tears in my eyes
It is all so beautiful, and I know
this is how it feels to be dying
My throat tight and vocal cords frying,
Keep reaching for that white bottle
with nothing inside
I can’t help thinking,
“That they ain’t gonna see me”,
Is this how I’ll die now?
Visions of my body
collapsed in the sandy path,
tourists all crowding,
Where was she from, Cal?
Flys buzzing in my eyes,
I can see it all, ‘cause,
I know that this is how I’ll die now
The ranch is too far away
and my legs don’t want to work,
Keep trying to run
So I won’t lose my burst
of energy in this tripping daze,
I hear my heart pounding,
My throats gone dry,
I finally reach the landing,
But what was the code, gal?
5–1–8–7, 5–8–1–7, I’ve got it right,
Out of the heat and into the shade,
to the faucet to replenish my veins
Hey, how’s it going?
I’m pretty sure I’m dying,
I think I need help!
I’ve got to get water,
So, I don’t pass out, and,
Tara, I’m so hungry!
I’m just freaking out,
I just know — this is how I’ll die now
Nothing seems to be working,
I am so hot!
Can’t keep anything down,
But I’m so thirsty, what!
My irises vanish
in a sea of black,
I’m watching from the outside
of my body, it’s ego-death
Not sure what’s happening,
Nor where I am, but
you keep me sane,
my hearts still beating,
and I am safe,
while I am still panicking,
with a vision of my death,
I am still breathing, and
I can see my body,
hear my voice,
feel your clothes,
and hear your words,
reassuring me,
that this is all nerves,
I was so high,
I lost my mind,
ran so fast,
I got there in time,
Standing in the shower,
The water isn’t cold enough,
My skin is on fire,
My throat isn’t hydrated enough,
I found a place that has little gems,
I’ve no appetite, but I can look in the mirror
and see that I’m alright
my pupils have taken over
my eyes, once blue,
and I can hear myself speaking, but
I can’t match my words to the woman
in front of you
I have lost my mind, and
I can’t help thinking,
This is how I’ll die
and I’ve realized that
all these little things
that occupy my time
make no difference
if I am going to die
All that matters
Is that I live each day
and remind myself,
“You’re doing okay”
I did not die today
tripping in sixteen miles,
you know, I made it to the place
where the white ranch posts piles
of sentient pears that move in the night,
and of all the things, it appears we’re all right
little mice remind us that we’ve got our hearing, in spite
of the fear that I might die tonight,
I can feel myself drifting into sleep,
with a comforting rhythm of my heartbeat