one of those shells,
bleached and made fragile by the sun.

a missing piece, somewhere broken,
lost. at sea.

an empty space, once a happy home,
full of feeling, now full
((of the sound)) of echoes.
a mortal conundrum. my name floats on air
and vibration, make-believe fashioned as love.

the tides lap at the fringes,
the curves that wind and water
have dwindled over time

and i've become a story in my ears,
hearing the voices i made up,
telling me

it's time to let go.