Even if i bleed a little;
at least I'll taste something we share.

pack up your clothes
remove your scent
this bed can be remade
this heart will be unbent

6am mornings
With little to truly say,
so let's lie here waiting
For the sun to slip away.

-The sea does not roar out of grief; it just longs to be whole-

Sit down. Please.
You know who finite we are?
Of course you do.
we can all taste it at the back of our throats*
And too many times I have wished to taste it for you;
but you always said that was your burden to bear.
You Liar.

Sometimes I think I am the Sea:
splintered apart, drifting
aimlessly.