Every weekend, I take boys to the beach.
At midnight he grabs his keys and drives me to the most serene, yet rocky beach.
The water feels warm, but it makes my touch cold.
I get wet from playful splashing, we were laughing, but I was holding back my feelings.
Not really ready to dive in. Not touching, not even loving,
Just enjoying his time and the gas he spent.
Just for me.

Another week passes, another piece of magic.
Before college and the knowledge I had,
Before I knew what was about to happen:
I'm nearly **** in a two-piece. Pulling and tugging at my assets, Glancing and once more, laughing at our conversations filled with flirting.
Not knowing what I'm wanting.
Second guessing my flaunting.
I'm a siren singing a song of tragedy.
Luring these boys who want to fix me.
He held me close, and didn't want to let go.
His lips touched my neck, my back, my shoulder, but I didn't roll over.
He still held me near for warmth on this cold, cold, sandy beach.

On my last breath, on my last note, I closed my eyes for a time and I just wanted to go.
I was done with love and searching for closure in the ocean’s moisture.
I was done with making promises, hearing them say they love all of this; I was especially done with the lies that they practiced, behind their eyes there was no reflection.
Now all these boys want the ocean.

And that much I notice.

I am a siren and I sing my song until I can no longer breathe oxygen.
That is when the ocean swallows my sorrow for a while when I follow them.
The boys line up, and I catch feelings for one.
He understands my song.
He sang it once.
Drove two hours just to find where it was coming from.

And on that same beach, different waves pushed and pulled that night.
Smiles lit up the dark sky, and we laughed and kissed under the moon’s tide.
Yes, I am a siren.
I am a hypocrite.
I sing to my heart's content, till it's tired, worn out, and I become irritated.
But my love comes from within.
No matter how dark it is, the lighthouse is in him.

Run away with me,
Through the rivers and across the sea.
My legs leave foam.
Past the shore line,
Scales past my hips and up my spine.
Bubble my seaweed,
Let my song cause your ears to bleed.
Run away from the life you hate.
Remove your soul from here for a clean slate.
Dance through the tides and down the stream.
Return the stones we've cast and learn what they mean.
Run away from the love and the words,
Because I may love you but if you'd like then I'd give myself to the birds.
For your happiness,
For my soul,
Where anything else but you would be something I'd want so much less.

The patterns of
Glimmering light
Refracted in the bubble
Droplets dangling
     Off a glass pane,
A rough skirmish
     Of splintering wood
     Stained by age and
          The sea
Washing in still waves below,
Neither of which reflect
The brilliancy of
     White washed sheets
Baked in a vanilla scent
     And a tidal quiver
     Of fingers shaking
At the anticipation
That they may
Caress skin half silk
With patches of sand,
Warm in the sun
That looms behind
Gray fog over a pale
     Blue, seeping from
The cracks that
Scatter about a space
So infinitely random,

Lips bruised from
A night needing no moon
     To shine away
Dusk creeping up
     From pine-needled soil,
Kissing with bare
     Chests and thinking
     With flickering eyes
That so seemingly
Match that of a candle's
     Shadowy counterpart
In the enveloping
Elegance of a deary
Dance to the world
     Soaking wet,
While darling,
We lay amongst
     Boxes of sheets
In our chests
And days without
So much as the rest
Of the beating amp
Inside our ribs,
     Shaking our hair
Bedazzled with milky
     Morning twilight
Dispersed through an
     Array of sleeping giants,
Gently weeping away
The toxicity of daily hustle,
Cotton legs and
Arms made of satin rope,
     Wearing the indifferences
     In the fibers of pasts
     Evaporated and sprouting next spring,
Flower crowns and fireplaces,
     Murky waters and the shiver

As you trace your fingernail
     Across the peak of my collarbone.

When you’re not around,
I can’t stop myself from imagining
our future.

A little brick house
with a white picket fence and
two kids running around -
playing in a tree house.

Your smile could be my
favourite thing to come home to -
going on drives to the beach
on summer nights
diving into the
ocean feeling nothing but
safety and security because
you’re by my side.

I would trust you
with our children,
let you place rings on
my finger and
take care of you
when you need it most -

you just
need to let me.

I wrapped my arms around yours at the beach,
holding onto you.

Desperately trying to keep that moment alive,
for as long as possible.

Then I realized I wasn't even looking at the sunset,
I was looking at you.

You are my sunset.
Beautiful,
yet fleeting.

The sky meets the sea in the middle, I am told,
Yet does not greet it, for it is grey and old.
One day, however, I did see with such zeal
The two embrace the lonely pier
With warm blue smiles
That took my breath away.
And still I walked across the sands of Time
And still the sea crept closer,
And when the Tide took hold of me
I did not try to hide from it;
Two smiles only became brighter.
I said 'Farewell' to a somewhat sweeter sea and
Scoured the beach for Treasure:
I found an Open Book among the beach jewels and the Pleasure.