Dear ocean,
There is a book in my book bag. "In the dark, dark wood." In the book is two colored bookmarks, a birthday card from family, and two notes. One note to me and the other to "bad boy." In my book bag is also a binder. In the binder in the front flap is a Myers-Briggs personality types sheet, a coloring sheet, a referral I didn't show my father, a birthday card from a teacher, and a note I wrote to "good girl." I told her she is an ocean and that I am a swimmer. She still is the ocean, sadly, I can't be her swimmer. You see her waves crash against someone else's shore. I just hope they see how pure her waters are. I hope they don't waste time taking pictures in the sand and enjoy the light roar that is her laughter. I hope they know that at high tide she is not dangerous but broken and only longs for someone to open their arms and let her crash into them. I hope they see that she is an ocean. As the sun fades behind her calm, yet restless waters I hope they see all the beauty she holds. As a swimmer, I sometimes forget to hold my head above the water. I become to lost in the waves to see the vast horizon I swim in. I hope they come up and take in the horizon. I hope that when they are done swimming they sit in the sand with their feet in the water. I hope they love the ocean more then any swimmer. More then I wanted to love a "Good girl."
Sincerely, a swimmer
YOU ARE READING
Letters Unsent
PoetryI've always been told that I'm good with words. The main problem is that I don't always know how to say the words I'm so good with. I find it hard to speak so i perfer to write them. Sometimes i write them in hopes it will reach the one it's to. Oth...
