Staring at the ceiling
wondering how fast
it got so wrong

Felt like speeding
on an empty highway
only to crash
into nothingness

And I wonder
how fast
It got so wrong

Out of
The blue
Thin air

Were there any signals?
Besides my beating heart?
Any signs?
Other than my shaking limbs?
Any symptoms,
Apart from my heavy breathing?

Remember the time,
you stood beside me
watching the milky orange sunset?

"Waves are warnings," you said

And what, may I ask, were our waves?

The lonely afternoons?
Or the empty glances?
Were they the motionless emotions?
Or the spitting of unsaid words?

"Waves are warnings,"
But viewers see them as natural blessings

And who's to say warnings are not?