Lunatics

I am a real lunatic, you know. I’ve been locked up for my lunacy. I was turned around by a waxing crescent and led into a King Tide, and as I circled my fate, I fell into a keyhole the size of a pin prick, I was jolted back to life by the sea. Waves frail, collapsing upon themselves to make a unsteady froth of white and green and brown. I hear the ocean follows the moon, too. We’re both just two lunatics trying to get by.