Sour Night
A curious man, he walked along the rocky linings of the coast.
There, He figured he might as well be swallowed by the sea.
With each rock he moved with his mind, he imagined them one by one,
falling on top of his head, and crushing his body.
SPLAT!
All over the ground.
And the waves would wipe away the decent mess of absolutely nothing.
He had nothing inside of him anymore.
Just another whisk of rotten air decaying quickly inside his textured flesh.
He looked far, far into the sea.
Deep into the ocean, he saw the sun.
Inside the water, the light beamed.
He sat on the rocks, and sat on them for hours on end.
Until he finally understood why he should bother getting up and going.
Tomorrow would be another chance to be happy.
He decided to leave the shore and skid across the pale brown sands, mingling in between his toes.
The night moon was his only pal, and it led him home.
Home to where he had a bed, he had a teapot, he had his work.
But he only shared himself with himself.
Another day, another wild creation of imagination scrambling across his mind.
And then fatefully during the next sour night, back to sea.
