As 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.