Still trying to make sense of all that I’ve lived
Still trying to make sense of all that I am.
To someday be everything I’m still trying to be
Even though, completely here.
Lost cannons were found by the beach,
shipwrecks left behind as a injured soldier.
The shells sheltered me
from the waves of your coming and goings
But of course, not only
Mine, as well.
The whats, desguised by the whens
clouded the whys and changed the wheres.
Meanwhile, my and your comings
and then goings again.
The sounding of your moanings,
of cryings, of yawnings,
left footprints behind on a sand that
the next coming erased.
But there was something I told you,
and I never forget
We never live the places we’ve been to.
My shelter-shell and I have been there
Somehow, after thousands of coming and goings,
I still end up there.