I’ve spent the greater part of the last decade nuzzled in a driver’s seat, fixating on the horizon, while mellow tunes from my iPod serenade the muscle in my chest so that my breathing might stay steady enough to control my impatience for just enough time to see beyond this highway.
You see, I’ve been chasing sunsets for as long as I can remember, but I still recall the tranquility that rushed over me the first time my feet touched the ocean floor with the tide’s white noise silencing my cares and a rainbow-canvas sky mirrored in sparkling waters blinding my responsibility. I’ve never been able to find it again, because every time I greet the skyline, I fall short.
There is something missing within me, a piece of myself I never quite found, even after the chaos of orchestrating my own death and rebirth. I know everyone finds the ocean sunset peaceful, but there is a key in that fiery heaven that only fits the crevices to my brain, and no soul could match its sanctity, so I will keep running to that shoreline until I find a sky that can fix what the locksmith broke and the waves that will put my reeling mind to sleep.