You,
with your freckles
and your crazed brown eyes,
you can't help it.
Those longing sighs and
warped sights only for me.
Your breath is a songbird, your voice
a flock of birds all in harmony.
You are like the ocean,
the sky and the hazy,
confused line between them -
endless and effortlessly immense.

Yesterday is blue,
tomorrow's fading;
we'll fall into your sunrise
as I'm yours for the making.

The sea treated us kindly,
falling into our open minds
and rushing back to the start.
We tumbled down in the
waves together, with the
earth all around us to
keep us young forever.

There once was a mathematician, who
hypothesised long ago that I would
learn to love him. His words were all logic,
plans and placements, everything set in
stone for me to keep. He said that, one day,
my heart wouldn't break at the prospect
of love and that I would get over my
pure fear - of me, of him, of... us. He
promised that, one day, his love would be
returned to him when I realised exactly
what he was to me.

He was right.

But I was too late.

Poseidon's home sways with the water's
breeze, swirling bubbles and seaweed cocooning
a historical fantasy. The owner
of the oceans, it becomes a place of
refuge for the lost souls looking for beauty,
and every life force in existence is
prized at its worth. Swathes of coral, green, blue
and yellow undulate with the sand and
live, breathing in their silent protest as
they begin to be killed by our wretched
humanity. Our need to seep into
every orifice of the land and control
the very atoms which compose beauty
itself is what has created the complete
death of beauty, taking over this place
and corrupting it. Brown and black may as
well be red, for they are the land's blood. That
home of Poseidon, watcher of the
world and owner of the oceans, it did
not deserve to be murdered by a race
of idiots who were blind to the beauty
they were destroying.

If I could travel on a one way ticket
to the other side of the universe
instantaneously, I would do it
and take the other one. My scientist, my
love, my strayed away boy who will never
be. If those wormholes we dream of existed,
we would be together in a heartbeat
and away even sooner.

I am losing my mind, slowly but surely,
just like I was lost to your murky eyes
so long ago - never able
to find myself again. My head is collapsing,
caving inwards, and now I am too weak
for sanity, too weak for anything
other than being hollow. The part I
need to love him is lost in your mind, and
the part I need to love myself is lost
in my heart. Return to me, my love. My
lost, broken love. I need to feel you.

Come back to me.