Breaking

Like waves colliding onto shore, the static anxiousness prowling under your skin crashes into me. Tumbles of mist and chaos are left in your wake, and the vivid turquoise of sea and sky are leached from existence by the ashen gray of the oncoming storm. You embrace the shore as you have for millennia - wearing down the rocky, sharp edges with your endless, watery fury. The music of water and stone a love song for all the world to hear.

Today your storm is different. You struck the stone harder, seeped deeper into the earth and dirt that hold back your fury. What was once solid is shifting, cracking, groaning. Stone tumbles from where it stood down and down. What is left is new, and raw.

This stone does not know the waves and the waves do not know the curves and edges of the stone. Waves continue to tumble into the stone, demanding water and stone endure – but it is too late for the new stone has already tasted the sun's warmth and knows it was made for more than containing watery caresses.

You told me to break, so I'm breaking.