Stone

Heartbeats consume and ridicule my ears with the ever-ceasing, pounding message that life is present, yet haunting.

As to quench those heartbeats, just as easily as a stone, skipping along the surface of a vast, grey pond,

to come to a stop, and sink. The stone is delicate, and the pond is treacherous.

Gusty wind blows as the stone wonders when her time will come to plummet into the depths.

Her will to keep skimming the surface of the dull pond has already sunk beneath the depths,

spiraling as it falls into the icy deep, alone and already forgotten.

Her final skip fades into the grey, and the pond closes over her

as if she was never meant

to stay above it.