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The Talker Oct 2019
The sea is angry
The waves bouncing back and forth
Along the seaweed
Creating a ripple in reality
Creating a ripple
In what we know as true

But sometimes the big waves crash down
And sweep all the seaweed away
No matter how long you spend piling it all up
It all disappears
During high tide
Never to be seen again

Or so you think
Until low tide comes
And the seaweed lays there
Just as it was left
Nothing to disturb it
Until high tide returns

And then you must rebuild the seaweed
Or watch it as it gets swept away from your feet
And drift out to sea
Never to be seen again
The Talker Oct 2019
That weekend
That horrible amazing weekend
It dug a hole
A hole that is filled with happiness
But when emptied
There is emptiness

When emptied
The emptiness swallows everything
With all the bones
The bones that used to hold everything together
Fall apart
Until there is nothing left

But hope
Hope lies strong inside
Hope is all that is left
Hope to fill that wide gaping hole
But hope is a fake happiness
A haziness

Lies over reality
And when reality shatters
You are left with one thing
The thing that tore everything apart
The thing that could fix everything in a second
The weekend
The Talker Oct 2019
It leaves its mark on everyone
It can make a good day better
Or a bad day worse
The way it glides through his hair
Leaves it for you to think

The sunset and the swing
Off of that field that the wind goes through
Gusts destroy but breezes lift
They lift high into the air
For everyone to see

But what if I don’t want people to see
Especially the person who I am trying to give to
They cant know until the time is right
How do you know the time is right?
You’ll know if they ask

But how do you give the same gift twice
That one gift that you know they like
But you don’t want to risk the pain
Of what might come out of a gust only because that power
Is what controls everything

— The End —