Undeceived

Just let it go.’ Easier said than gone - ‘You’ll be nothing without me, says pain, ‘I’m your identity.’ Well, listen up, old man of the sea, she’s dislodged you, uncurled her spine from the burden of you; spat you, shat you out, delivered you, ectopic cuckoo, to sprawl helpless on the beach. What will you do now? Scuttle sideways, find another hollow person to crawl into? But you’re fading, dissipating, becoming nothing. The shoreline will be clean of you. She can see so far across the water.