The sense of sand gathering between my toes
Reminds me of another life.
Where the night air lulled in my sleepy lungs
And the waves left my feet, but always returned.
I am reminded of how sometimes people don't
Return.
They let you built houses out of them and one
Day they tug at the roots that have gotten too
Tight for them and they grow wings instead.
Never have I forgotten the sound of your voice
Because it haunts me everyday in this comatose
I've been living in.
Your words like a scratched disc repeating things
I wished I'd never heard.
Why will your memory not leave me?
What have I done to be sentenced to this life of
Constant reminder, I often think, but maybe
Your mistakes follow me like a like a falling glass
To a hardwood floor, merely because I am the worst one
You've ever made.
