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Feb 2015 · 487
Rough Water
Jessie Feb 2015
The sunset has chewed me up and spat me out into ocean storms more times than I can count. I'm scared that one of these times I might not crawl out onto the beach, coughing up sea stars and fish bones, lungs full of sand and lost love letters shivering inside empty, bleeding out salt water and parts of sunken ships. I'm terrified I won't alway make it back to shore. I'm scared of drowning in my own storm.

— The End —