cover me in your bloodstained bed sheets
that still smell like cigarettes and ***
from the night she left
mid-august

press your ears against my chest
listen to my heartbeat
write a song to the rhythm of what keeps me grounded,
but all of the lyrics are about her

title it her name

we always talk about the ocean
and how listening to the tidal waves
can bring peace
to a restless mind

but we never talked about
the strength of waves
and how they can ware down
grounded rock
to
helpless grains of sand.