with every second that passed, fish becomes less certain of the intensity of those feelings she's felt since.
this slipping away, be good or bad?
perhaps neither.
for if something is real, it never really goes away.
yet if something is dreamt, it can never be taken away.

"after the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box."
the passing kings and the interesting pawns fish swam across in the chess game settings of her life -
they never lasted long.
neither queen nor pawns would she be,
just an ordinary on-looker, a passer-by.
stop, stare, think and maybe be amazed for a while -
catch her while she's deep in thoughts,
right before she snaps out and glides away.

hopes and dreams that never hurt,

so transient, so desirable.
perhaps in spite of the strength and intensity of the emotions she felt,
her deep want for zen-ity and control of self would never allow her reins to be let go of fully.

for beneath the crashing waves lies a locked-away heart so still,
she sometimes wonder and fear if its actually still beating.