As the water pours over skin in icy hot and burning cold, is it hatred or desire you feel? Perhaps both. Hatred towards yourself for feeling desire since it also comes with the acute and bitter pain of truth. And truth always hurts.
Maybe you understand or maybe not, but it doesn't really matter because there are things we never mention anymore; things that we don't talk about. Don't you ever wonder, though? About the answers to the questions you won't voice?
I wonder how long moments lost will haunt our footsteps. I wonder if we'll carry our fears and darkness all the way to the water's edge, or if we'll drown ourselves with sorrow before we ever feel the waves again.
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