Wishes Upon the Waves

Wishes Upon the Waves
by Bryon Slack

Like waves driven by Hope,
I break myself upon the stones
knowing they will give way—
not in knowledge of thought,
but in the marrow of my bones.

Drawing damnable debt,
nightmares of negative interest,
from the shoreline
into the riptide of promises
made just to feel my pulse again.

Played out tide by tide,
my heart only signs contracts
with cash paid in advance—
no faith,
just collateral in torment.

And still Hope murmurs dreams
into these wishing ears,
sibilant sadism veiled
as a goal within reach,
without Truth's clarifying presence
to reveal the folly,
that this time the stones
tremble at my cresting approach,
commanding me to shatter
upon them once again.

I fall.
I break once more.

Feedback:
"Ghosts in My Head, Not Under My Bed"
"Which One of Us Walked In"