My only hope today, is that rain can wash
The rusted colored stains of blood away
Dirt; like Earth, caked upon my face
Hides the smile
          Buried down beneath
I sit stranded in the sand
My hell a carousel shore; forever trapped along a beach
The waves here, don’t swell and crash the same
They linger static like a message never read
                 Tell me then; wherein lies the difference
Between a broken heart and being dead
Every touch is cold, the only warmth I’ll ever know
Has been swept away, down the cloudy gray gutter drains
Like little villages lost to hurricanes
          No trace or tracks to lead me back
To the boy I was before
This lonely island lacks a dock
No passing ferries and only planks to walk
A salted sea of crooning souls beneath, call for me to join the deep
This symphony of sirens
Draws me ever close to silence

You can sit around
and hope that time
solves the puzzle,
or you can put
yourself back together.

the jagged pieces
left behind
are too many
to hold
now

they cut my
fingers
leave my skin

bleeding
and raw

and i can't
put them down
can't give them
back

they were gifts,
right?

There are symmetries in nature
created for deeper purposes.
They delight, tease and inflame us
- oh, nature is diabolical.