I float among the ancient relics of my emotions. Sand castles of despair, with turrets of devout devotion to souls that abandoned me. My fingers rub along the cracks crusted over by endearments that lasted for seconds of unmarked time. My tongue laps up the saline sadness, filling my belly with distilled details distorted by my own emptiness. I shield my eyes from the sparkling jewels of hope that litter the seashore. I fear the lure of destiny as I cling to the roughened coral of free will. When will I realize that choosing to live in the ruins of Atlantis does not make me a martyr — only a make-believe mermaid succumbing to madness?
**Please visit my friend, Scot, on his WordPress site for beautiful paintings, photography and words.**