You happen to be one of them.
You are the shark circling the place where the riptide’s current ends.
I used to believe the end of you would be the end of me.
Your scars were mine to carry.
This curse that curses us both.
You are unresolved, stuck in the middle of your undoing.
Teeth fall out only to be replaced by identical jagged edges.
But I am not your victim.
You are not my silent time bomb.
I see through your fearful heart beating out of time.
Cut open, stitched up, again and again.
Your only source of connection found swimming in circles, waiting for blood.
Whether or not you continue, I will go on.
You left your mark, but I have weathered your storm.