Our love is like the ocean.
We're so small we can't see across it...is there really land on the other side?
Prove it.
It's mysterious. Deep. Dark and full of colours we think we can see, but then in a flash they're gone.

One day I'm feeling the sun on my face,
and the next there's a storm, and the clouds are turning black black black.

My mother says once you've made a decision you shouldn't look back...
But what if I've made two, and they contradict each other?

What is it that we're doing? Are you my ocean, or just a mud puddle?

Every contact I get with you, I look further back.

You talk of the future...but just in passing. These plans, do they mean anything?
What are plans to you?
Maybe my uneasiness is stemming from the fungal rot suffocating my trust in you.

I know, you being the ocean...means that you may change direction in a flash of a second.