Something about the ocean
has always been comforting
to me
maybe it is the way that the waves crashing against the shore
tossing and churning violently
as it laps gently at the sand
remind me of the thoughts always running amuck in my mind
or the way that it can be both beautiful and deadly
a tornado one minute
and a soft caress the next
how the current can change
at a moments notice
or the way that even the calm
screams a thousand warnings
before the storm
maybe
just maybe
the ocean is therapeutic
because it reminds me
of all of the most chaotic
ruined
broken
raw
beautiful
and mending
parts of me
in a way that speaks humbly
of hope
that these jagged pieces
can learn to live
in some sort of tempestuous
equilibrium
if not always
in peace
m.p.
YOU ARE READING
With Broken Wings (2013)
Poetry"Take these broken wings and learn to fly again." This is my own personal story of overcoming my demons and my grief. I define my recovery. ι'ℓℓ вє уσυя ѕнσυℓ∂єя тσ cяу ση, уσυя яσcк ωнєη уσυ'яє ησт ѕтяσηg ι'ℓℓ вє уσυя нєαят ωнєη ιт'ѕ вяσкєη, му α...
