Position defeat
just outside of reach,
for you to prolong
your decline,
for you to drag out
what you
have underlined.
On a shoreline,
burning from a sunset,
its sand as one color,
you are wandering.
From a skyline,
from your journey
to pilot desertion,
you’re here too long.
Tragedy has become
your songs
to lull yourself
to a non-lethal sleep.
Vacancy has won
your heart,
beating just to be
a white noise.
Come overboard.
Let the world know
why water exists,
what ice melts into.
Rise afterwards.
Repair your eyes,
once opened,
while blind.
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