scrap #6
The Wreck of Tragedy
My dear mossy friends,
In English we say: I am grieving.
In Poetry we say: The oceans hold the magnitude of my sorrows for missing you. And with the tides, they ebb and flow. The only constant a knowing, that of the two of us, only I remain. I stand always on the beach, sinking into sand. Sitting amongst the broken boards of a sunken ship, called The Wreck of Tragedy. And again I refill the sea, pouring out the painful parts of me. The tide comes in again, cold water lapping at warm feet.
Sincerely yours,
Bella C. Reynolds


Beautiful Bella, so eloquently written 💖