Author Information
Falling Apart
Folder:
Poems from dark days The smell of salt in the air.
A calming gentle breeze.
I am home, after all these years.
But what has my home become?
Why has the air changed so much? The familiar salt now only sickens me.
When did the old buildings I used to visit look so jaded?
No. Home is no longer here.
Home is nowhere.
A vagabond, living a life of uncertainty and rage.
Where did that naive boy go?
The one who tried to find his way, but only trekked deeper into the unknown?
Dead. Deader than death itself.
Only his shell remains. His husk still marching on through the never ending expanse.
With every step, leaving more of himself behind.
