it's 2 am & my bed feels so hollow
i swear i could almost
hear your name echo
when i rest my head on my pillow

the way a conch echoes
the sound of the ocean
it pangs against walls
we used to call home
it now feels more
mausoleum than sanctuary

how sure i was of you
the way the shores were sure
that the waves would
come back with the tide

free fall was not a state
i thought i'd be
accustomed to