every day seems sealed in sorrow
made you maybe yourself to death
with so many potential promises
more certain problems
with the ocean
the water wails and wallows
collect the shells
waves push the rest out of you
what's left is for you
what's left is a vessel
with no one to appreciate
the facade
every winter
my grandfather pours salt on the walk
every spring
i see how the concrete
has eroded
every time i see you
i see your chipped vase
and how you've been mishandled.
