*tw: frightening description of the ocean, shark mention*
Now, for some unexplainable reason,
my blue eyes which sway between
crystal clear waters and
blue-green waves
are filling with tears.
Now, like the uncontrolled,
mysterious churning sea,
I am crying.
I am crying because
I don't understand why
I'm crying.
How absurd.
Maybe I'm scared of myself
like I am of the ocean -
unknown and fathomless, with odd
and frightening things lurking
amongst unreachable depths.
Maybe I won't ever fully understand the
true essence of myself,
like we'll never really know of all
of the sea's innumerable secrets.
I stand on the shore,
thoughts of sea salt in my eyes,
sharks beneath my body as I float,
and drowning.
I admire the way the waves swell,
how the air smells of salt water,
and the colour of sea foam.
Still, I take no further steps,
content with the water
only touching my toes.
Maybe I'm not meant to swim.
Maybe it's the only thing that will
set me free of this prison of
unanswered questions.
All I know for sure is that I love to
admire the ocean from
afar, but it terrifies me.
(I really don't want to drown.
So I will not swim.)
YOU ARE READING
recycled poetry
Poesía❝i wish i was writing something special, but these words have been used before and there's no originality to it at all. i'm just reusing phrases until they're worn out, like musty library books or hand-me-down clothes.❞ from ❛hand-me-down poetry❜ i...
