Waves of troubled blue
wash over
me.
I sold my guitar
6 weeks ago.
I gave away my favorite pair of
heels.
I cut my hair
and closed my eyes
and felt comfort in the teal.

I bought a dress;
it's see-through.
I've only worn it once.
On the day I tried to see my father,
but became the victim of
resistance.

I haven't seen my dad in far too long.

And I haven't stepped outside the waves.
Even though they swallow me up
and choke me whole,
singing
sea foam to the grave.

I take pictures of myself a lot.
Of my hands,
my legs,
     my feet.
I'm on a rock
and there's
  a storm,
brutally
   rocking
  me.

How waves of blue've
washed over me.