Anna Bialkowski

the sea and its horizon

disillusionment; i’ve been waiting for weeks now
  he said that he would call
friendships die from broken promises
  clutching for answers that will never come
yet strands of age grow within the veins
  a mirage of newfound wisdom
filled with tears, glossy pearls
  fall from clouds, the rain;
history hides from sunshine’s rays
  running towards the moon
written words on a page tell the story
  yesterday is dead, don’t you see
the present is now and now is gone
  tomorrow may never come along
yesterday’s men hang on to today
  to sing in the old fashioned way
 
the sea desires the horizon line, she is
  unwelcoming; his touch feels foreign
to her, how can they be so intertwined
  yet allow such space to split them?
thunder rolls the die, eyes fill with freshwater
  flowers sprout from the looking glass
so much time has passed, running
  running away has gotten me nowhere
and it never will, or maybe someday my wounds
  will heal, and I won’t feel so gray

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