We talk, but only in my dreams and when i awake in the morning i wonder if maybe you might of actually been there, but when i've blinked my way to the surface and realize that im laying there alone and have been since I first layed down alone, you were never really there and havn't been for what feels like centuries. Disappointment and a mixture of anger sink's and I rush out of this bed that once held you. When i've clawed my way out of the grave of nights filled with what now is a ghost, I look around the room and replays upon replays flow through and out into the open like a 1920's projecture. After being glued down to this floor by the sea of memories trying to take me down, I walk out the door and when I do, the oceans spray hits me like your hair did when we hit the bed and for a minute, I feel you, all over me, every inch, like grapevines on a forgotten building, take over what's left. But I rip through it all cause I don't like to be broken down. I head up the staires and fall because your voice keeps calling me, pulling me back, climbing up to my shoulders and pushing me down as if my legs are slowly disinigrating. As I lay there, in defeat, every inch of my body is tooken over by the feel of you, your voice, your touch, your smell, your taste, your ghost. And while I talk to you in my thoughts you louer me in, word by word, inch by inch. I'm sailing away, back into you, away from myself, in a sea of defeat. As I sail closer and closer to you, the wind picks up and steals everything. The voice, the touch, the smell, the taste, my sense of direction. It steals all from me and leaves me in the sea to fend for myself. As I float, the waves grow higher and higher and take me down under. As I get pushed down, farther and farther by the pressure of the unknown, I start to give up and realize there's really no need to fight because theres nothing I can do. Nothing I can say. Nothing. So, as this scene comes to an end and I hit the ocean floor, I then look up and see that everything's come to a rest and all is calm, I then look up and see the world. The world in which doesn't involve me. A world in which doesn't realize where i am nor does it care. A world in which was mine. A world in which is you.

(c)SeanaseaWallen 2010