For you were once a child of innocence

Trying to find a handle on it, trying to make it all make sense. Like why does this matter, and why is it so sharp that it gives us invisible paper cuts and perforated lungs. With eyes closed, even though it would be in our best interest to keep them open, I feel you becoming someone else, slowly disappearing into geometric shapes with empty centres and permeable corners. And the sea is all around in their greens and their blues. And it's tumultuous and at times, violent, almost torrential. And I'm losing grip, I can't keep up.