The Walk

We walked along the dock.

Me caressing new blonde locks,

Sneaking at his inviting looks.

He looked outward, wandering,

Mind wondering, stride meandering.

We walked along the dock.

Me trying to guess his mind

In hopes he wouldn’t mind

And I squeezed his hand hard

Though he made it only harder

I wish I could convey all I feel

to extract emotions as a lemon peel

But as he looked down from the vantage

I knew then we weren’t in one montage

His life was one with high seas

And I — was just high on weed.

Originally posted on my personal blog, The Chaos Within | The Walk

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