Reaching down.
Pulling for it to rear it's face,
As love slips from my tempermant,
And emotions fluster
And churn
The waters in me.
Silence.
A still-water sea atop,
But just beneath,
The currents pull the krill, torrentially rushing almost as madness.
The moments return
In deleted scenes.
They take backroads, winding me through for the most intimate view-
Up close.
Personal.
Tears.
Shades of grey
And plenty of black.
Sometimes greens, sometimes blues,
Sometimes even a flower or two.
All the things I yell to myself,
Trying to stay "positive down here",
But really,
Despising it,
Like a plague.
She's split.
Above surface.
Below waters.
Veil's & sheathes
Keeping Home,
Too many distances
Away.
Waves explode upon the shore,
Rearing up,
Crashing down,
And out in the backdrop,
A paddle-Boarder stands still,
Looking out,
To the edge
At sea.
I see
What he sees,
And stop to search what land we'd hit if we just kept going...
Into that Horizen.
Planes even,
Overhead
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