I became one with the element of my sign as the water hit my face
Backseat of your wave runner, I closed my eyes, though it was less out of freedom and more because I was afraid.
The sounds of the world faded in the white noise of us speeding through the air,
67 mph against the wind, wrecking my hair.
I watched as you dove headfirst into Hubbard, and I envied your sense of freedom
That it was no stranger to you, and that it was openly welcomed.
I could never be that way, I'd only remain stricken with worry, and the awful knowing
That I cannot be who you want me to be.
Then as you kissed me,
I remembered why I did not run after meeting you that night,
Underneath the pool table, love of my life.
Because despite that lingering fear that I will never be what you need me to be,
You were simply everything, and I hoped that'd rub off on me.
But you told me I never had to change, so that deep-rooted fear stayed
And I think being with you turned me into the very thing I hated.
YOU ARE READING
Sunset Over Pointe Inn
PoetryLove once stopped me from writing this book, and I hope that whoever is reading this someday finds the kind of love that inspired me to finish it.
