On this island, I am here.
Surrounded by glass shores and ebony waves.
I breathe the ash, smells fresh, and I am free.
The edges jagged bite whilst I in repose.
The winds, a storm, echo
My head--well-sought freedom.
I cannot let go.
I do not let go.
On this shoreline, I am here.
The volcanoes crash my leaden skin.
The coral creeps, flaying me wide, under hide and bone.
Strolling along with the long-dead battleships.
Quite a toll.
No one here.
No one hear.
In this ocean, I am here.
Plagued by love letters in bottles adrift
Survivors doing little now.
Now, they are ashore.
Seeing little, feeling little--blight the lot
Feeling hopeless
Neverthelesses
In Your arms, I am here
Sweet relief at last
From all that “happiness” I threw myself to.
It hurt too much to be called good.
None shall find me less.
Less shall never find me.
I am no longer here.
Bury me in you.
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