Thirsting for you,
lost in the weeds
of what life is becoming.

Longing to quench
the little, dry disappointments
of a day to day without ending.

Unable to dredge you from the depths
of decisions that have already been made.

Unable to reclaim the drops of time
before they evaporate away.

Hoping to glimpse your sail
far across this vast ocean
separating the world.

Thirsting for you,
my little girl.

© 2014 Wasted Space Publishing