She built herself an ocean of salt, same one that's dragging her down. It's tearing her apart from the inside and out.

Sand will become her home, as waves will be her crystal throne.

Sometimes the rain is so heavy it gets our souls flooded. The heavier It is, the sickly it feels. 

Until the lungs begin to burn and oxigen lacks, threathening to explode.

© Milan Brid 🦅, 2021.