It started in the late summer heat,

The questioning of one's self.

Who am I?

It's whispered in the blowing breeze by the sea, tell me can you taste the sting of the salt on your lips?

The ocean roaring in your ears drowning out the whispers that starts growing with the stretching shadows as the sun starts to kiss the line between ocean and sky.

How can the warmest of days chill you to the bone?
When the sun is at it's highest desperately trying to brighten you from the outside in, when the days elongate...