Be still / Still be.

All I want is a secret spot to leave all the letters and bits and pieces and photos I have of you. A spot to put the memories I’ll forget if I don’t keep them safe. The dreams I’ve collected.

A quiet little place to keep parts of me safe while I’m in the world being alive.

Because I need to be out there, living. Because I’m here trying to do the same and things just aren’t right. Nothing feels quite right.

I can hear the chaos rumbling quietly off in the distance and the tide is drawing me in and out over the shoreline. Rearranging the view of things on her own accord. Pulling me out with her, sink or swim. I’m trying frantically to hold fast. Handfuls of sand slip so easily through finger spaces. And the space between everything seem so very small and so very large. Time, distance, ideas, feelings, dreams.

And I must be good at this game, because I’ve played so well for so long. Catch and release. Come and go. Here and now. Tomorrow, then what? And I’ve tried so many times in different ways, but the more still I keep my body the farther my mind goes. And I don’t need the stillness outside, I need it in.

Resolution through impatience causes solution, not satisfaction.

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