She claimed my objectives were impersonal, rushed to a greedy degree.
Passively I spoke about the unraveling of me.
Quietly I failed to see the sea.
Which unfortunately was contaminated by fragments of the ill me.
Swaying plastic debris that heaved to a rut.
It shut within, with no keeper at bay ready to fray away these unnatural scenes.
It heckled in dreams, green effect adopting sunrays that are etched into the brain as heats wave.
Vigorous heat, sweltering bitterly sweet love affairs, compounding them into a soulful burn.
As if the soul tie churned, regurgitating what it is now worth.
The Earth only feeling wrong by the pain stemming from its dearth.
Lacking respect, it hurts. Intertwining with the silence of a few, instead of sinking into the sea with you.