He stared down into the dark, twisting waves, as if a voice spoke to him from the watery depths below.
It seemed to pull him in and pool in him. It swam circles in his curiosity.
The Sun stabbed at the waves, washing rainbows over glimmering abalone. Translucent bubbles danced in its light. Fishbones lay quietly on the ocean floor, forgotten. Starfish whispered to him, tales of how they had lost their arms to the creatures that walk in the sun.
Urchins complained about the oil pooling in their waters. Sharks gave him the silent treatment. And despite the fact that he too had legs and walked in the sunlight,
he knew he was not made for the sun, but for the sea. And the waves whispered his name with salt and foam.
This poem was written in 2016. "Sea" was published in Rose State College's Pegasus 2016.
Can't cut through Lost my even keel Just blackness below and sharks at heel Could tread forward Rather flip the wheel Run her aground Taste the bite of the steel Let the waves crash over and the chain unreel Until the deep takes me whole and I can no longer feel The grip of the truth and the horror of the real I'd like my mind to fade maybe give it some time to heal
i used to save the messages where you complimented me told me i was beautiful how my smile could warm the seven seas things that I’d never heard before so I would save them because I thought I’d never hear these things again but now those messages hold up space in my phone because now I see the sharks you hid underneath the sea and those words ate me up
men are sharks and weakness is blood circle in the shallow waters of my insecurity eyes flashing with hunger bite off a piece of my heart, help yourself to seconds let the leftovers go stale
there’s blood in the water like hieroglyphics like liquid hourglass memories from a wolf pack that swallowed me whole all that’s left is a jangling bunch of bones calcium wind chimes the ghost of my screams will be the trumpet your beating will be the drums