wifi on the beach
november20twenty18
the wifi on the beach gets shittier with time, wind picking up unsent messages and scattering them through the tide. hazardous; worth it? maybe... oh, maybe.
in vain attempts to load an endscreen, the feelings come crashing back, swallowed in the evening waves. temperamental and hot to the touch, off the hook and leaking out the lid. yesterday's trash is today's halfhearted recycling.
and in waiting for my data to get a little better, the sun blistered new troubles into scarred skin, ultraviolent to a healing self image. a sun increasing in size makes sunscreened efforts futile.
under umbrellas I dig holes, never getting far before the tide washes away progress. it takes my buried treasure, and the beach loses almost all of its thrills.
I lie within reach of the tide at closing time, closing my eyes to rolling incendiary salt. it pounds and tugs - the truest way to feel wanted is by the fire of the ocean.
pulled out to sea, maybe finally at peace. time can't tell us anything except for the outcome of our useless worries.
maybe,,
YOU ARE READING
Don't Try [Poetry]
Poetrya testament to the troubling winds. my poetry doesn't follow any rules. ✨minimal to no cursing✨depression✨hopeless romantic babble✨ proceed with caution. 2018-2019