Sometimes I imagine us holding hands, Walking along the harbor: You, telling stories of all these lost years like a pelican begging for food Making music out of my invisible tears
But maybe instead of holding your hand I should hold on to the future And stop chasing your footprints in the sand Only to be led nowhere. I will no longer swim in these tears. I have felt the ache of the salt burn on my skin for far too long. It’s not worth docking on this pier If you don’t treasure me like the shells along your shore.
So I set sail. I will find a new island to call my own & Sculpt the land like shaping clay on a pottery wheel.
I will treasure all of my shells and secrets The way you did not treasure me. And for once, I will command the sea.