poems for the ones who are just like me

sandstorm

it might just be who people think i am

it could be who i actually am

but who the fuck really cares?

tell me that you aren't doing that just because they want to do that

tell me how you can't tell me that

since you, miss integrity, only speak of the truth

perhaps thats why you don't speak at all

how does it feel?

to whisper in someone else's voice

how do those uncomfortable scenes that come in waves make you feel?

only tiny crests of water rolling one after another, hopelessly yet unnoticeably

who am i kidding? you'd like that won't you?

when kids can play in the small tide and people seem happy swimming in those waters

the same waters that carry the unknown

those beaches that evacuate at least once a year because sharks need to eat too

but what if i told you?

i can make oceans collide

i can feel the thunder vibrating in my throat every time my mouth opens

i can make the world end

by how much compassion is in-between the land and the water

they call me sand, you know?

the annoying useless particles of nothing that lay at the bottom of the oceans

some people can't help but hate me once they notice that i can fit in places that no one else can

but those same people, built utopias with castles made of me using their own imagination

those who explore the depth of me with ambition

will find gold rings and broken sand dollars

that they pick up and find value in when no one else can

but miss, if the truth is what you say, let me confess

that i was once you

i was a small tide

but once you become your own wave of courage

the moon starts to admire it

and when night falls, she helps you grow so much greater that

you can:

make oceans collide

feel thunder in your throat

and make the world end