Jul 2014
i.
they say that when you drown,
it's nothing like in the movies;
it's silent.
there's no splashing,
no screaming,
no kicking or crying for help.
just
silence.
and i guess it's true,
for i am drowning --
there is water in my lungs,
pouring into my heart,
filling my veins and escaping from my eyes --
yet i cannot speak.
i am rendered speechless
by you.
ii.
i'm not so sure if it's
the smooth white sand
ingrained in your skin,
or the intricate seashells
that are your daintily painted
fingernails.
maybe it's the pulsing red
of a moon during high tide
that shines through
your scarlet lips,
or maybe
it's the crashing waves
filling the ocean in your eyes.
maybe it's the way you sweep me up
and pull me under,
stealing my breath,
invading my thoughts.
or maybe it's how you
are unpredictable.
you are in alliance with the erratic skies
and fickle moon,
and yet,
no one can control you,
no one can predict your next move.
iii.
i find it fascinatingly beautiful
how easy it is
for you to destroy yourself,
how you hide within raging whirlpools
and tear yourself apart from the inside.
people are afraid of the ocean,
but the ocean is a part of you.
who knows, though?
maybe you're scared of the ocean too.
iv.*
beware the girl with the ocean eyes,
for a heart that is eaten away by the sea
can never be whole again.*
(a.m.)
they say that when you drown,
it's nothing like in the movies;
it's silent.
there's no splashing,
no screaming,
no kicking or crying for help.
just
silence.
and i guess it's true,
for i am drowning --
there is water in my lungs,
pouring into my heart,
filling my veins and escaping from my eyes --
yet i cannot speak.
i am rendered speechless
by you.
ii.
i'm not so sure if it's
the smooth white sand
ingrained in your skin,
or the intricate seashells
that are your daintily painted
fingernails.
maybe it's the pulsing red
of a moon during high tide
that shines through
your scarlet lips,
or maybe
it's the crashing waves
filling the ocean in your eyes.
maybe it's the way you sweep me up
and pull me under,
stealing my breath,
invading my thoughts.
or maybe it's how you
are unpredictable.
you are in alliance with the erratic skies
and fickle moon,
and yet,
no one can control you,
no one can predict your next move.
iii.
i find it fascinatingly beautiful
how easy it is
for you to destroy yourself,
how you hide within raging whirlpools
and tear yourself apart from the inside.
people are afraid of the ocean,
but the ocean is a part of you.
who knows, though?
maybe you're scared of the ocean too.
iv.*
beware the girl with the ocean eyes,
for a heart that is eaten away by the sea
can never be whole again.*
(a.m.)
idk.
