I am nothing like the ocean.
I crave the day I find that buoyancy, that flaccidity.
I do not have depths that hold
glorious mysteries and love songs.
I cannot hold up a ship, nor evaporate into thin air.
     I have no drop off.
No unknown mass overflowing with striking secrets, begging to be discovered.
I am n o t h i n g like that.
There is nothing shocking about my existence,
and if I were to finally fall between the cracks,
I’m not sure if you would notice.
I am only able to be waded through, to slowly numb you
Inch       by           inch.
So tell me,
does that make me an unlovable monster?
Or a merciful victim?

All I know is that there is such a fine line
between being a doormat and a brick wall.
But just know this-
if I ever find the gray area, I will be unstoppable.