I hear nothing but waves, and the air cascading around me with flecks of salt,
But i see infinite stretches of vulnerablity, it's as if i want to cradle this liquid into a glass and rock it to sleep as the waves and water do to me.
It is already the beginning of the ash mixing with the salt,
And the coral as white as the rarest of albino,
The layers of life are being heated to an extra degree,
The sun which gives us prosperity and hope beams in an angry, mocking setiment as if a child has been abused.
Which it has.
And the child protection workers are nowhere to be found.
As a family we have to admit our mistakes,
We have to strive to be better,
We need procedure, supports to at least be good enough,
We need to stop beating, abusing, and bruising.
Because our child will withdraw, our child will retaliate, and eventually fight back or destroy itself in the process.
And we will go along with it.
