Lonely Greys

ocean

An ocean lives within me

Its ripples slowly begin to surface

The smallest whispers of malice inundate the ocean with water,

Filling the wrathful entity to its very brim.

With each ill-intended word, my hurting heart spills its sacred water into the insatiable ocean, an ocean that enlarges with each parcel of pain

With each bottle of sadness.

Thus, the heart inside of me is drained of its water

The water that healed my wounds and nourished my thirst

during days in which I suffered from droughts of suffocating sorrow and self doubt,

But nonetheless my heart dries out.

It forgets the relieving touch of the water against its parched lips

It forgets the healing ache of the sorrowful happiness against its hardened soul

The ocean, uncontrollable and overwhelming,

Carelessly releases the entirety of my water not in calm ripples and waves

But in a storm of tsunamis,

Causing the ocean of years and years of pent-up emotion and pain to flood out in a matter of seconds,

Ravaging not only the surface

But the deep inner happiness I never knew I had

The deep inner happiness I wish I knew I had

But will never have the chance to discover.

The flood destroyed any potential I had to learn and love and move on

I could not control the ocean.

Instead I let it deplete my heart of its water,

of its potential to fill to the brim with love

of its potential to forgive and heal its superficial scars.

But now with a deprived heart

With a heart below sea level

I lost the ocean inside me

I lost the the hope that I could be strengthened by the floods of hardships in which I have kept my heart and soul afloat

How am I to hold onto this hope and belief in a sense of potential,

When there is no water left to quench my unbearable sadness and self doubt?