Off the shores of a white beach
you hear whispers of old bones
yelling through the medium of waves,
repeating over and over the truth
that you can no longer hide.
The threat of midnight
hits the strike of dawn,
and whispers say over and over:
The slamming fists of the waves
burst your inner skull
with a flame that sparks and lights
in a subconscious confinement.
These fists pound, reminding you
of the person that told you
‘life isn’t black and white’ -
I guess we both understand now
that they were right.