Melancholy swells across my life in waves.
In heaving tides like a living ocean.
Laps endlessly at the sand of my self-esteem.
Eats into me a grain at a time.
Until my shores are eroded and raw.
Laughter is the break-water.
That keeps the soil of my veins from spilling.
Into the hollow left by this corrosive melancholy.
Sandbags of laughter hide the impending flood.
Ready to burst its banks and flood the fields of my life.
Dreams as tangible as clouds.
Time is a wild stallion charging for a cliff.
No reins can tether