sombre

poesy four

i thought i was fire. i thought i could burn. hot and fast, devouring everything. leaving nothing but ash. destruction. something strong, something bright. something that couldn’t be stopped. 

but i’m not fire. 

i was wrong. 

i am quiet. slow. i come and go, pulling back, pushing forward, but never staying in one place. i am not fire. i am the sea. 

the sea can drown you, yes. it can swallow you whole, yes. but it doesn’t burn. it waits. it watches. it wears you down, piece by piece. 

i thought i could be loud, that i could crash and rage and destroy, but no. i move silently. i slip under the surface. i am there, but not seen. i spread out, i reach far, but i don’t touch. not really. 

i thought i was something fierce, something that could be felt. but the sea doesn’t feel. it just is. i just am. 

quiet, endless, moving, but always the same. always waiting for something, someone, to dive deep enough to find me. 

but no one does.