my own personal rock avalanche

in a flash,

and without any rational intent,
thirty thousand
boulders suddenly
leapt from my hill.

friends will tell you,
that it was an awful avalanche.

and it was.

my boulders were jagged and coarse,
each one of them,
and they busted through my brain
as if it was tissue paper.

their shadows filled every pore beneath
every eye
and in their wake,
they left nothing,
but mangled homes
and patches of crust and grit.

they crushed every nay-sayer into cinder
and they roared through the throat,
like ancient, rusty cellos,
taunting the deaf with false vibrations
and blinding all reason.

no village stood a chance and
everyone ran...

or at least they tried.

hands were often raised
before impact
and all teeth
were ground to powder.

the sound was unbearable.

the echoes,
heard across the valley,
were soft and unsettling

like whispers under the bed

or blasts of air
on an eardrum,

and they hinted
towards a mysterious,
undying need.

an emotional craving.

needless to say,
my rocks were once rich and pliable earth,
and much more manageable than they are today.

honestly, i don't know why they fell.

one can only assume,
that with their aging,
and with the hardening
of their insides,
they became too heavy

and collapsed

no longer sure
of where to go
or what to be.