Mud and sharp shells between cobblestones
The gray is stained red— I let it stain
I thought I was wearing shoes but I can’t remember (where I put them?)(must’ve floated away)
How much longer of this?
I count the days but I forgot the number
and each morning I start again
And each morning I look for signs from something greater than myself
There’s an odd number of shells, an odd morning I have but it’s always odd and never even
and it never adds up like it’s meant to. I wish I could make it add up
They must’ve floated away
I see your eyes looking back at me but I don’t remember them
I do remember what it felt like
approximately three feet away, that’s the separation
I can never tell if it’s growing or shrinking or doing both at once
It’s a wave in a flood
I’m so far gone it doesn’t matter anymore but it still hurts
The shells are washed up, wedged between the cobblestones
Mar 24, 2022
Mar 24, 2022 at 3:06 AM UTC
Mud and sharp shells between cobblestones
The gray is stained red— I let it stain
I thought I was wearing shoes but I can’t remember (where I put them?)(must’ve floated away)
How much longer of this?
I count the days but I forgot the number
and each morning I start again
And each morning I look for signs from something greater than myself
There’s an odd number of shells, an odd morning I have but it’s always odd and never even
and it never adds up like it’s meant to. I wish I could make it add up
They must’ve floated away
I see your eyes looking back at me but I don’t remember them
I do remember what it felt like
approximately three feet away, that’s the separation
I can never tell if it’s growing or shrinking or doing both at once
It’s a wave in a flood
I’m so far gone it doesn’t matter anymore but it still hurts
The shells are washed up, wedged between the cobblestones