You are a writer

The Ocean

 

Boggle my mind with the ocean in you. High tide and low tide I'm swept

into the water. Twisted tormented taken and tolled through the course that

is Love. The curse that is love in your eyes. It is how I know. The problem

with the ocean is that it never gives back. It takes out to sea what it will. It

begs for all it can get and doesn't care if you live or die, and it always

waves an insincere goodbye. And once it has stolen everything you had

that made you you, your body lay shipwrecked washed upon the rocks

and the sand. You're a new member in the circles that bind each living

thing to another, and you will become nothing but dirt, piling high on a

sandy beach. Be not apologetic or regretful, every second in that ocean

was worth the beating you took. Remember when it embraced you ever

so tenderly and took you under. It was worth being that alive. Do you

remember what it was like being able to breathe under water? I remember.

I remember you.

 

Written by

Heather Herman

 

This page is maintained by Becky DiFilippo becky_wheeler746@esc.edu