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The Sand I'm lying in this mound. The sand. The sand is coloured with my passion. It's stained red. Red for the broken promises and their remnants. My body. Immersed in the mound, but only enough to smother all but my eyes and breath; they remain open. Tell me, will that shard be removed? Can we mend the hole that spews this wretched sand? It burns my eyes... It shortens my breath... Dearest love, will I always find myself this way? Wallowing within my discrepancies and how they clash within memories engraved in my heart? Giving up this drug? My addiction for this wicked sand? I've tried within the confines of our time. It hurts and for a moment, the weight lets a limb free I feel I can be emancipated from this fate. But the sand... The colour deepens... I am crushed... And I find it impossible to escape... So come then; Lift me from this sickening weight so we may bask in each others image of bliss. Would you? Please...?