Seagulls,

Innocent, naive birds,

Soared above chaotic

Derailing of steel bars sinking

Into polluted depths of oily

Waters, scattered decorations, cheap and

Luxurious, blended

Into a soup named

The sea.

I fly away from

Sinking ships as this,

Not giving time to

Mourn over feelings lost

In the salty broth that

Only engulfs and

Never gives back.

Just as the seagulls,

I do not look back, and yet

I see.

I see words try to

Intertwine between

Their frail, limping selves,

Grasp at commas and

'And's, yet only finding

Periods and

Bubbles that seem to

Leave them

Drowning.

I see hands try to

Grasp each other, steel

Fingers in solid grip, yet

We knew.

The future foretold simply

Rust and

Curses and

"Don't let go"s except

You did.

I see complaints,

Headlines underlining

Mistakes of things that

Are meant to rest in peace

Atop the ocean floor, yet

How are they meant to

When all people do

Is scream their names in

Anguish?

Let dead men go.

And how am I meant to forgive when

You never repent, when

You live your days flying past

Things that begin with 'D's and end in 'Y's.

We were proud of her:

Our ship we

Polished and scrubbed on

A daily basis with

Jokes too old and too

Cheesy and

Conversations too

Plenty.

And yet, when something as

Simple as a stray word

Toppled from the

Heavens, we simply

Let go.

No.

You let go.

What are we then but simply fools?

May our friendship rest in peace.