We walked on a dark beach.
That day in March was yours to keep,
or to forget.
You wanted to find healing in the sea,
but the night sky brought you to your fears.
I saw despair in your tears.
They comfortably met the ocean,
and disappeared.
I walked with you until I knew I had to let you go,
in order to let the mystery of your sadness
Simply show.
In a sense I knew your sorrow,
and I might have heard its name.
Tragedy looks for a place to stay, I said.
I said this while watching your heart break,
but with every slow breath you took, I knew
You would eventually be okay.
That night in March I met Heartache.
