Floating thoughts of salt water sticky skin,
Sweet ocean smell, sunburnt, and sand stuck in
My lungs, my brain; I can’t breathe, I can’t talk.
Seasons and smiles all serve Winter’s clock.
Let the waves, fish, and sand fill the hole.
Let them fill up my grave, scratch up my soul.
Thoughts push like waves on the car ride back home.
Memories only make me feel alone.
Summer’s breath turns chill. Thriving joy turns ill.
Shadows run and persist even when I
Grasp clock’s ticking hand with all my will
Pleading for time with those I love who die.
Skin cracked, ghost pale white. Tree thin, bone broken brown.
Searching for salt water in Winter I drown.