Heal(ing)

Writing is solitary, sailing through the passing of time, in remembrance of all that is, all that was, & all that is caught in-between. I pray God hears every expression, & every plea for meaning; for an opening of yet another door – for a comfort in-meaning. 

One day, the terror & ecstasy will not endure, one day the tinted eye will see the chaos from its own hands; not as a work of art, but the sealed remains of a whole, extinct within a lost & borrowed time. 

The pale blue light penetrates the empty room in search of what remains; the tug of distant memories, battling disillusionment, falling into complete silence, this heart is seized, shakes, refusing to utter forgiveness. 

The waves at times slobbering, often trembles, but mostly  crashes down in fragments, for one to pull themselves out of the dead grease, that is difficult. 

i dip my feet, & swim the frozen waves to find warmth, to find meaning, to find truths, to find myself, once again.