In a friendship sometimes you find yourself taking riska and making decisions, that totally reshape and redefine your relationship. Sometimes you stretch it out like a rubber band to its fullest capacity to see how far you can actually pull it without it snapping. But while stretching it out, you aren't thinking that it might break, backfire in your face. You're not thinking about that. But yet these decisions have the power to entirely change the footing of that friendship from that point on. So this is written with a longing to go back. To the beginning. To how things used to be.


OIL SPILL

Looking on
at a site
now declared
"national distaster"

Questions and memories
mingle and burn
How
Why
Can

But it's
irreversable
Longing's mere hands
grapple but find
themselves
inadequate

who can remove
this black venom wound
from the face of the ocean?
who can unchoke the corrosion
from its soul?

once
captiviated with life
smooth as glass
once
pure as a windchime's whisper
hypnotic and whole
waves that once so elegantly galloped
against the cheeks of the earth

Now,
paralyzed in thickness
blinded from what stands
before
Corroded,all blackness -
Can only stand back and
watch in terror as it
swallows whole the ocean
becoming an entity, of its own

but did we forget
the hands that
spilled the oil
was mine
was your's