Fragments of myself have been hovering, Suspended above me in my own abyss of isolation. And all this time I've been trying so hard to grab ahold of them, Repeatedly reaching out in acts of desperation. But every time I grasped to catch them... My own touch had just pushed them farther away.


Pitch black and quarter to twelve, we walked on the beach barefoot on shells. Stars guided our path to low tide, the oncoming waves slowing our strides. My blonde hair had been tangled in the breeze... But we still stood to take in all we couldn't see.