My dearest love Amy,
Why didn’t you tell me you’d leave?
You sentenced my heart,
And denied it reprieve.
Now I sit here alone sifting sands of dead times,
The ocean a witness to the hurts of your crime.
Its depths would hold me…for how long I don’t know,
But one shan’t die here,
No, I really must go.
Far, far away from the haunt of this beach,
I’ll wash away the memories with a bottle of bleach.