A blank box. The antistrophe of the only thought of your dwelling repeats. Your riveted eyes like silkscreens of my harsh summers continue to ******* me, they are imprinted to my seemingly abandoned, seemingly rotten consciousness. I saw you reach the ledge and then jump into the sea. The sea sounds beautiful and is beautiful but also: The Sea
Down there your coastal effects lay within the wave that pacifies two legged sharks, and the waters swallowed you with voracious hunger.
Everything became withered, the death cart arrived. It came to take you to the great party of the longest night. The beasts followed their pulse leading your way to the black sun's of cosmo giving way to perpetuity.
A blank box. The antistrophe of the only thought of your dwelling repeats. Only the sea witnessed you flight and now you are The Sea.