A Bottle Lost at Sea

We sit alone in a coffee shop

The brewing smell circles my nose

Hanging heavily in the air like a muggy day by the beach.

It is comforting and nostalgic.

How I’ve missed spending time with you,

My best friend.


I’ve been gone a long time

Consumed by daily goals, dreams, and restless nights.

Endless paths flood my mind as I try to select the best one.

My entire future seems to hang in the balance

And the weight of each and every decision never escapes my shoulders.


I confide in you and you reassure me,

But the weight of your own demons and responsibilities push you down.

Toxic homes and unfulfilling jobs sweep away your time and energy,

And neither one of us can console the other.


Only an hour to you,

But it may as well be an endless ocean.

Trapped in our spheres,

we drift.


Silently we float in a sea of our own tears

Shed in the depths of the night under covers.

Sunken and lonely, yet blissfully hidden in the comfort of

concoctions designed to drown our thoughts and our cries.


The tides steal you away to a beautiful island,

And you find your long-sought happiness.

Caressed, cherished, saved.

You found your home.

Still drifting,

I flounder helplessly as islands pass me by.

Sharks circle periodically,

But even the most desperate lifeforms seeking satisfaction

Leave me to my solidarity.


I have moments though,

Pieces of driftwood find me,

Peacefully rocking me to sleep and reminding me

Of feelings of joy and peace.


I continue to drift until I am

Thrown, tossed, and vaulted

back into the sea.


Finding a new routine,

New lifestyle,

New mindset,

I fall back into a floating rhythm.


And still, I know this isn’t living,

I know I deserve better,

I know you deserve the peace you have found,

And there is always something to look forward to,

To work for,

To accomplish.


The routine envelopes me.

Keep your head down.

Do your work.

Get it done!

Just one more day…

Just one more day…

Just one more day turns to weeks.

Weeks turn to months.

Months turn to another Christmas gone by,

And I realize a year has gone by.

Suddenly we are back in that coffee shop alone.


Sitting in a sea of chairs and smells churning.

Love floods my heart,

But my mind and the negative thoughts clamp my tongue.

Trapped, voiceless, I listen.


We are closer than ever,

But I still feel the current

dividing us.

An ever-present narrator

casually stirring our story round and round

like a Sunday morning cup of coffee.


And I have no qualms about writing this,

because I know you will never read it anyway.

A secret diary entry addressed to you.

Silent wishes and blessings sent to you

In a bottle lost at sea.

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