We perceive the deep
like some siren song
sinking depths below
where our skin ripples
and runs laps around
and around and around
the surface tension
and cool breaking breezes.

The sunken sand and
rusted portholes
don't draw down
the moisture in our skin.
Next to the slowly sloping
dunes of deep
we are a skin-shod Sahara.

We are pulled by and against gravity
because, in fact, the bleak black
crushing back against our ankles
begs for the darkness we hold
shackled out of sight.
The death of the sea finds
the secrets in me
and it makes them it's own
as it swallows me whole.

you are not just skin and bones
you are delicate,
a bit like glass

stop cutting yourself over
the brokenness you try to find

we were all kids once
with small hands and big eyes
so full of love and innocence
and I'd be lying if i tell my younger self
to make sure she keeps her innocence
because this harsh world
will **** the life out of you
which is ironic because this is life
but if I were to say a message to my younger self
it would be to keep your heart full
full of love
full of care
and full of happiness
because this world may be harsh
but do not let it diminish the light in your eyes
or **** the curiosity
and maybe that adventurous streak you always have
they will surely call you foolish thinking that
you can keep all these things,
but look around you
you see dead people roaming around
with no fire in their hearts because they drowned
in this sea of madness
do not go with the flow but rather stay on top
and build a boat and sail where you want
don't let the coldness of others
affect you,
but rather let your warmness
affect them
this world is harsh
but that doesn't mean you have to be that way too