I get a little stuck
In the wake of the ocean that left me gasping
For air, it seems light
And people start forgetting
That you've been sitting with the sand
Becoming one with the back of your knees
Eventually, low tide comes
Giving you a minute to breathe
You start to forget that you are anywhere but
Staring at the sea,
And there is nothing for hundreds of miles
Except the livid foam rushing towards you.
Sand has to scratch before it smooths
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
I get a little stuck
In the wake of the ocean that left me gasping
For air, it seems light
And people start forgetting
That you've been sitting with the sand
Becoming one with the back of your knees
Eventually, low tide comes
Giving you a minute to breathe
You start to forget that you are anywhere but
Staring at the sea,
And there is nothing for hundreds of miles
Except the livid foam rushing towards you.
Sand has to scratch before it smooths