no use holding grudges.
sometimes i miss you like the rolling waves of the ocean when you’re a kid and Mom promised we’d all go to the beach on a Saturday in July but then Dad had to work overtime and you never made it to the beach at all.
and sometimes not seeing you is like a burden i bear on my back until it breaks vertebrae by vertebrae, crushing crumbling into a billion different pieces smaller than the eye can see, like dust inside my insides, progressively worse as the day moves on.
and sometimes these very same pieces grind to sand and become the shore beside the waves of you that i miss while I’m sitting here missing all the things i never thought I’d miss before.
and the sea calls us home
and the sea calls us home
and the sea calls us wherever and whenever we are,
spread like the corners of the earth until we converge again, riding on crosswinds.
