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months i spent

building our dream

on the words you spoke

your promises,

my solid foundation

you watched me labor

encouraged me

it was a beautiful dream

but i did not know

it had always been larger than reality

you were never interested

in something so fantastic.

the sigh i breathed

was enough to send it

crumbling to the ground

and reveal underneath

the rocks that i had built upon

were sand from the beginning
scratchy and damp do not harmonize underfoot
and fear and the ocean should not coexist
but like this elevator missing the thirteenth button, my comfort sinks with tantalizing, lethargic anxiety.

the boards are a smokeless fire underfoot,
grit rolling between me and chipped brown paint,
as i beg for cold, thirst for salt, but do not run to the provocative, promising body beyond the dunes.

and my clothes are underfoot,
and this lemonade pink towel whose corner grabs at the sand,
and the hot dry fades into something that is sturdy and packed down by bounds like mine.

carbon slices at my underfoot,
the sharp home of a long-dead thing,
as my heel strikes the iron, water-pat shore, and the shock of it stuns my bones.

shock! cold underfoot
lace between my toes, smoking from wood and run
and then my face is in the sea, because who needs air when life is the sun trapping itself in the pink of my shoulder blades?
I haven't written poetry in a very long time, but am putting together a small portfolio for a writing class assignment. Any and all advice is more than welcome, even if you're the type who can't say it nicely!
This is me
Breaking softly, softly
Like crisp mounds of sand
succumbing to the winds.
Because sand
is porous. Unretentive
I'm like this sand
Forgetting good memories
Forgetting conflicts
Forgetting them all at once.

Breaking softly, softly
like a house
losing its life to a fire in minutes
Because fire
has no regard for history.
Is wild. Persistent
And I'm like this house
Yielding to the gentle build up of this sweet inferno
Disregarding my age-old vows to "never be bait"

And breaking softly, softly
like a feeble brick-wall
Under the downpour of torrential rains. Because brick-walls
are volatile. Unstable.
I'm like this brick-wall
crumbling under the weight of my shortcomings
under the weight of my non-stop errors.

You are wind.
Blowing away my reasons for guardedness
Because you've given me less reasons to be
You are fire
Having no regards for the history behind my careless habits
Because there's really no need for it anymore.
You are rain.
Eroding this sanctuary I call
"The place of logicality"
Because logicality never won in the Place of Emotions.

But this doesn't mean that I'll stop
Resisting the winds, the fires, the rains. Resisting you
And why?
I don't know either.
And I don't know who will win this war
You, or my stubborn heart.

But truth remains that
this is me
Breaking softly, softly
For you.
Originally published on my instagram account, @_mercywilliams_
Faith is the key
Trust. *is the key
To *hope

We cannot function and be close to ***.
Without *trials

We cannot grow in *Character
and Love **grace
When I was a young man
a pack on my back off for
adventures I'd go with just
the few belonging I had on
my back
I'd take myself down to the sea and to there lived the life of a free man a loner Is what I was happy to be for no one did I
All that I had was the sky sea and the sand only other sound being that was that of the seagulls who made their nests In the cliff above
Falling to sleep to each night to the sounds of the sea to wake In the morning to Incoming tide awake and refreshed from the salt sea air for this was another day I'd live being
With a pack on my back all had In to the world  I'd go and to live by the sea to live a free man
n Jan 8
Running errands makes you drowsy
The tube dampens your senses
Your values are re-prioritised
You are the bin men’s *****,
but all is not charred.
You have the chance to remember before,
and you grasp redemption as sand now sifts through your fingertips.
The stars awaken the you beneath the superficial.
The water nourishes your ignored thirstiness for air/passion.
Written while spending time in Mexico. I had just finished my first term of university and despite all the fun I had had, I was depressed. Away from evweything, Mexico gave me the chance to work on myself and recover.
I'm always trying to keep my feet on solid ground
As the world around me crumbles
Powdered sand
through my fingers

I'm glad I have that trust space
I can always fall .
 ......                             on
I've made the poem end just as unstable and incomplete as the feelings in motion through the poem.
Neuvalence Jan 4
The children grew heavy on our backs
The desert sun was baking our skin
But we could still see sand, endless at the horizon
We knew our last days were near.
Glistening in the sun,
Sand can be so much fun.

A towel on the ground,
My worries are now unwound.

Children always laughing,
All the while they are splashing.

Little Birds dart back and forth,
Eating mollusks they work to unearth.

Crisp, clear, blue water,
Always to be seen in this saltwater.

Shells upon shells.
From conch to cockleshells.

Hot sun always lead to ice cream,
To help let off some steam.

So many reasons different for each,
On why the beach is so fun to reach.
Just a fun poem, I wrote this because it was fun to try and rhyme and it was just sort of a test poem.
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