And the ocean begs as the sand asks him not to stay.
"Please just give me a chance, I will wash all your flaws away.
You really have no idea how lucky we are,
Wounds this deep would normally scar."

But the shore resists him with each attempt that he makes,
She denies and watches as his waves crash and they break.
He didn't know why he kept trying so hard.
But wounds this deep normally scar.

It’s cold and quiet here, sitting on the moon.
Watching as the world spins by, making its rounds.
Even with the stars shining, there’s still a sense of gloom.
The beat of my heart and inflection of my thoughts are the only sounds.

Where are you, sitting on the moon?
Alone, I feel as I rest here, I’m afraid it’s true.
As I lie on the moon, cold and alone, I've begun to feel attune.
Though I’m afraid feeling alone would not change if I were with you.

A strange place to be, sitting on the moon.
You can rest with me if you’d like, this isn't beguile.
Though I am afraid we would not be able to commune,
I would not mind if you came by the moon and stayed awhile.


It’s cold and quiet here, sitting on the moon.
I've never felt more content than I do on this grey mound.
I would not mind a silent visit, even if you just passed through.
And as I took my final breath, I couldn't help but smile,
Sitting on the moon.

Sleep is why I'd rather lie
awake than realize I am I.
A mind inside a tethered lair.
A room sealed tight, taste the air.
So bold my thoughts say to me,
I need not speak, I write with ease.

I need not see, my eyes are bright.
My dreams are stale, my glare does bite
My ears so all that I can hear
Are the thoughts that grow inhaling fear
With this, a mouth that can and will
Devour hopes and leave me still.

I'll clasp my panicked thoughts together
My sense of touch is even better.
You know that I can barely tell
If this is real or life in hell.
So I'll try to sleep, with all my being.
As my brain is filled with agony...

The voices only quiet to a whimper,
They never fade, an arctic winter.
I beg of them most every night
While I lay awake and lose the fight.
Please, hold my head against the floor
Please let me sleep, forever more.

She was all the world a beach, laid out in a thousand story grains of sand.
Her thoughts, the constant crashing of waves along the surface of her life.
Her beauty, the gradient of colors created by the setting sun on the horizon.
Her strength, the tide pulling the ocean over her shoreline like a blanket to comfort the coast.
She was all the world a beach, laid out in a thousand story grains of sand.
And I wanted to read them all.

This isn't a poem,
It’s only a thought.
This isn't a poem,
My mind’s just starting to rot.

This isn't a poem,
Don’t read it like one.
This isn't a poem,
I just have no where to run.

This isn't a poem,
Please understand.
This isn't a poem,
I’m just another man.

This isn't a poem,
At least not to me.
This isn't a poem,
It’s just a place I can breath.

Waiting.
I’m always waiting.
  I lie awake at night waiting.
   I don’t sleep out of fear that I’ll miss it.
    I live in constant anxiety that I will miss what I've been waiting for.
  
    I’m also afraid that I’m not quite sure what I have been waiting for.
   I guess that’s why I’m afraid I’ll miss it.
  I guess that’s why I’m waiting.
I’m always waiting.
Waiting.