The sand dunes little by little stick onto my feet, dry or wet, noises loud enough to be quiet.
The sanity is brittle, knee by knee touching the ground, bet it’s over.
Still in my pocket, I reached for it one last time.
Thoughts bickering, impulses win. So been impeached, slowly fades, waves crash.
Too bad it’s gone, foolish thinking it would last.
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Author:
riri (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 8th, 2026 15:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
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