Breaking waves and breaking hearts,
each are constant,
one after the other,
after the other after another.

Rain beats down on the still water,
on the once beating heart,
like a drum,
or a gun,
it echos.

Just another weathered face,
or maybe an empty space,
stuck in place,
stuck in time.

In the crowd, all alone,
the mind, a black hole,
Something special,
but not,
a rarity.

Holding onto a single line,
a single word,
a moment in time.
Slashed and torn,
what once was warm,
is now gone.