It’s quite difficult to hear with the crashing waves and rigid wind. 

Alone at the end of the pier, waiting, wandering, wading, 

Within my own thoughts. 

It’s so far back, the fog doesn’t help either. 

Trying so hard to remember the “one time”, that “feeling”

Surprisingly the lack of recollection brings a solemn blanket across my inner.

I sit with withered legs and rattled confidence. 

The boards underneath me emulate my position. 

A creek, a crack, and a splinter to compliment. 

Sitting, my mind slowing coalescing with the fog. 

Reflections, emotions, sensations, a sense of “being” dissipate into the haze,

It’s all right though, everything is nothing.

Gazing into the brittle waves, feeling that slow pulse inside…

I know it’s time.

Everything is gone and nothing is anything. 

So peaceful.

Yosef Johnson