I hear them again,
the waves lapping at the shore

The tide seeping in,
gradually roaring louder

This isn't right,
it shouldn't be time

The moon doesn't decide
this ocean's fate, though

So it surges wild,
unpredictable and impossible

Lapping at the shore
of my brain, caked in sand

The sun should've been
too strong to feel this cold,

But the wind carries the waves
and a warning I can't ignore

And I know I can hear them,
even feel the salted spray,

Yet I turn my back to the waves,
and break the ocean's rule

They may just finally take me,
and I may just let myself go.