Past is Present

February 10, 2011
To the taste of salt that taunts my tongue, you sizzle in my memory.
My wounds open for all to see, while I’m drowning in these flashbacks.
To what do I owe this demise? To whom?
I watched you thrash and squirm.
I saw your hand slip from my weak grip.
I saw your shallow casing sink down to the blackest depth.
I saw your eyes, frightened beyond all comprehension.
I saw your soul, crushed by evident disappointment in me.
I saw the water; I saw you.
I see you; a million times I see you.
I see my life crash down around me.
I see your soul, nothing more than a whisper now.
I see my faults; I see your pain and
I can see the water, that it was scared of you.





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