Monday, June 1, 2015

Despite

It rains. In a steady stream it pours down the windows, into the sand and across the waves. The beach smells like the cold sea, all salty and steady. He looks at you and laughs until your tired heart melts, but it drips into the gutters with the rain. Perhaps you are beyond repair.

(Nothing feels real
in life
and sometimes you think
perhaps you aren't actually
here
at all)

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