Come in Waves

How that single line, “She’s gone”
Can spear and haul to the surface all that’s been suppressed, all that’s been tucked away in a tired and worn old weakened wooden chest buried beneath the bed; locked shut the bolts should have been strong enough.
The tides of our years have swelled and pooled, pushed and pulled penetrating the old wood. Soaking, splintering, bursting at the bolts, the pressure pressing, pushing so in years I’ll have a vault.
The equipment packed away; the old rocking chair and the coaster you made in the hospice. Lavender hearts are tucked into the corners to protect a million policeman ornaments.
But the chest should have been locked tighter, bolted and chained before being placed in the heart of the Titanic and lost to the rocks on the bottom of the ocean. It has taken six years to sink through the boundless, murky big blue
(There isn’t any light down here and nor are you)
The storms have been coming and God, I need those lavender hearts. Yet still I keep the chest locked picking harshly at the wooden shards.
“She’s gone”
Tears open that chest exposing all that it holds, all that it knows best. All that hurts the worst and knocks the universe off course, the worst of the fucking worst.
It should have stayed out at sea, where another boy is hit by this, in fact I can see three. Another wave pushed in our faces by that brutal bastard big C