I’m grasping old memories as they slip through my fingers like sand. But I hate the beach and your ghost crashes through me like waves. Makes me feel like drowning because you never taught me how to swim. Saltwater fills my lungs and I hope it cleans the wound. I’ve been breathing in sad words that dare to escape my lips. They’re sharp and cut through my rib cage, so when it rattles the echo goes on for miles. Can you hear it too? Some say it’s the sound of thunder. Others say it’s an earthquake. It’s just the waves crashing again. -AMT ©️