slips through raw fingers
re-emerging as tears on flushed cheeks at midnight
and you don't like how it exposes your hurt
makes you feel it all, again
how it stings as it heals
but that's the way of things
like saltwater and time
and through it all you survived
with a wounded soul and weary mind
without answers to your questions
but always with the hope that you would see tomorrow
eyes red, lips cracked, and your heart; still beating
you finally felt the shifting of the tides
and found peace
in the knowledge that grief
comes in inconstant waves
but know that when you are ready
saltwater will find you, again
to free you from the memories that hold you captive
to smooth your rough edges like a pearl
made from relentless friction between salt and flesh
until you are
because that's the way of things,
like saltwater and time

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