Flash Fiction 2017As if I was even-footed all along.
The ground not conspiring to deceive me.

A willing accomplice to the ebb and flow of tide.

That it would splash up one day

And dip down the next.

I ought to know, I would think

And yet, still, I wouldn’t.

Because in the end,

Seeing you wasn’t enough

Being near you was pure torture

And because I am nothing more

Than a mere slip of myself

I had nothing left to do

But fall for you

A/N: I don’t know why this is poetry or where this voice came from, but it fit and I like it. So there we are. 

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