#with their deaths on the trojan shore

we are children running on the shore,

sand creeping in the spaces of our toes

as we stomp hard enough to leave a mark

because this is all i know the world will remember me for.

we are children running on the shore,

feet never truly touching the sea

because something lives underneath the waves

and you always try to protect me from her.

we are children running on the shore,

hands clasped tightly with each other’s

as we cherish the times we have left to spend;

marking the days we did not know were counted.

and then i was a ghost stuck on the trojan shore,

desperate, and yet unknowing how, to come back to you.

— pyrrhus, why?