Drops
When you feel you have fallen so hard you can fall no more, you just hang on the drops of what one perceives as deliverance. Torrid and stormy are the days, the infinite energy of the crashing waves drowning the sinister disbeliever. Pressed into the breathless water, drowning amidst the sea of sorrow, clawing for a breath of air. The walls are alien and the rooms a quiet depth of blue, looking for a needle and thread to stitch that hole that widens like a crack in the wall. Growing a ball of emptiness, stripping the essence from my bare soul.