Oasis that Seems Fake

Through my hair glides fire and rain:
the misery my of days, my cries for help.
In a desert of care - in an oasis that seems fake,
hallucinations gleam: I see the eyes
of god pierce my ears, lift my hands.

There's no wind, no storm, nor sun
just the tone of my voice. The breaking of dawn
in my bones. The clothes of sand
stripping my skin, my skin out of moisture,
out of the moisture of joy.

I feel the agony of thirst disperse in my mouth.
I drink my tears in gulps. There's no hope
when high temperatures boil my blood.
When there are vultures soaring above my nose.

There's no hope when everything I look
points North, where East feels is where I should go
where nothing but nothing seems like a Spring
but like a cactus that stings my tongue.

The snakes of time - those hands that poison
my years, walk through my neck. I feel old.
I feel old in the wrinkles of each new dusk.
I feel old as my hair whitens afore my forehead.

I feel old, and even then, I still think of you,
sinking with me in these hallucinations,
sinking with me in this oasis that seems fake,
yet that soothes my soul.

Written by: Lucero L.

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Prompt:

http://www.paulinemcgee.com/artwork/medium/StrongerThanYouKnow.html

For Saffie's Challenge in the Main Forums.