I'm still afraid.
That maybe I have been unmade, like clay back to sand.
Shadows still holding my hands.
A focal point, a keystone. Like a god on a telephone.
How should my life be if only it was minus me?
What good has come from my being? what is it I'm not seeing?
Questions linger in my mind. I'm out of breath and out of time.

My memories wash into shore. Caring me out to see the sea that is me.
Maybe ill recreate myself, as something not so sweet this time.
The sharks below begin to swim. This time I know ill win.