my desolate thoughts echo
an emission of bittersweet reflection
it's melancholy quiet
it's secrets unheard
like the solace of the ocean
before the crashing of the storm
rippling out into the inextricable
too many to count
too many to mind
any in particular
too many small things
that never add up
only defined for a mere moment
until finding seamless rest
amongst its charted territory
it's safe waters
waiting until chosen to resurface again
YOU ARE READING
so feel while they fall
Romancehooked onto words; a couple of letters strung by a few minutes of time and the lack of emptiness for emotions.
