thoughts that found words

my ducts have held more water than the mediterranean sea

they have acted, simultaneously, as both the chains and the key

the blood pools beneath my eyes as they tire from the strain,

the veins in the windows to my soul swell, and lengthen with the pain

yet and still, I force my own hand

I wipe my face and mark an x in the sand

I cheer over the spot that I am about to leave behind,

the place I can never again return to because I’ve found peace in this piece of mind

but as I walk away, the wind blows, my eyes cloud

this feeling, so familiar, the demons stand proud

I pause because I hear a whisper,

it is the slightest sound

I am told it is the one I have been waiting for,

the voice to turn things around

I part my lips to reply, with reluctance and grace,