The worst part about
missing you is not knowing
whether you feel this
way about me too.

-The sea does not roar out of grief; it just longs to be whole-

Sit down. Please.
You know who finite we are?
Of course you do.
we can all taste it at the back of our throats*
And too many times I have wished to taste it for you;
but you always said that was your burden to bear.
You Liar.

Sometimes I think I am the Sea:
splintered apart, drifting
aimlessly.

Well
I guess
It's over
And I've
Got nothing
To do, other than
Get over myself, now.

Lightning.
Crack.
Thunder.
I split.
Straight down.
Gazing up. I see.
The 4th Horseman.
Standing split, where I stood.
I see. The Beast. Proliferating in my absence.
The Horseman, crooked smile and evil gaze.
The Beast a chaotic shade of nightmares.
I lay, dying. Watching. What I refused to be.
I, existing in them. But now split.
I feel their darkness. I feel the burn.
They walk over to me. Throwing me aside.
They cackle in a blood curdling scream.
We exchange looks.
We embrace the end.