All that remains

slit the wrists of my thoughts
deny them entry into my consciousness
just become an empty shell on a seashore
once inhabited by another soul
now deserted
left as a second hand pick-me-up
for curious feet passing me by
waiting for sunset
longing for the fingers of the ocean
to collect my restless remains
when a full moon spring tide
carries me away
and hides me in the depths
beneath the eb and flow
of the liquid darkness
and tucks me into great below

© 24.08.2009