Waves slowly sweep me in, solidifying me into rock. With each successive crash I am built larger until eventually what will be left of me is a mountain underneath the sea.
Inside my chest flow waves of sorrow waiting to be freed at the sound of your name. They will inundate the streets of neurons within my head and strike lapping conversations with the thunderous sky that blankets our connected-disconnected cities. Those very same waves are filling up the trenches of my chest dug by your hands. I’ll probably never see you tomorrow, again.