fissures lead to water

I’m sorry. Yes, I still love you, I always will. At some point, I think I even wanted you. But it was not a real want, it was a want for something interesting. And you were interesting because I have sensitive fingers and you have hairline cracks. They traveled so far I made a map out of you.

I liked to trace their origins and how they held you in. But feeling something faint doesn’t make it less, it makes it remembered. I came to know you and navigated my way out. I think you’re on an island watching the back of my head. You’re looking for answers and I drew everything in the sand.

Sometimes, I hear you calling out. But I release your name to the wind. I’ll do it again and again, until you reach yourself.