I am not the ocean. The ocean cannot fit in a drugstore at nine pm, blinking up at fluorescent lights hearing giggling being ashamed. The ocean drowns the people inside her, if she wants to or cradles them but, I? I am drowned. I am cradled. Held and held down by so many tides, so many hands, ever-changing never-staying. The ocean commits herself, she stays put, she holds open her palms and whispers "I am not afraid to let you stay here. I am not afraid of you, exploring my depths." I am not the ocean.