Where rats are scrambling,
Tide encroaches on sand–
It’s swallowing, I’m drowning–
The dry lend no hands.
Light bakes me to fragility,
Brittle and increasingly flat,
Just like those egg shells
I have him walking on…
I’m deserted and hopeless,
With this inert heaviness
That cannot be released,
Without opening the skin.
Alone and dying but still crying
for everyone safe on shore.