Lost Poems

When

When will you return
The waves come to shore
Then slowly brush away back to the core
The taste resembles your disposition
You left me in pieces without an opposition but yourself of course
You pull me in
Splattering the cold liquid onto my skin

When will you stop this inner turmoil
That coils itself farther into the sandy soil
Drawing a pattern that will soon spoil
And late at night angers grows embroiled