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 dare you to peel away my skin,
dig in my flesh and pull me out
of this ******* shell I’m in.
Leave me raw and pink,
A sunburn from your soul,
that righteous light, the missing link.
Fill a hollow heart that doesn’t beat
but you’ll find in a corpse,
it just won’t keep

The Sun
beats upon my
shoulders
a drunk
Father stinging me;
Your face
red and peeling,
grins past
your straw.

A hot day
spent dunked
in the ice
water;
Green and
slow moving with
algae.

the edges of my fingertips
swell up as they lack their magic
exposure to red disdain
covering delicate skin with danger

the walls protecting a heart
slowly die in their place
and accept the consistent rush
of an old air conditioner doing its best
to persuade heat to leave

so my empty body can feel at home
in my empty room
away from the indulgence
of July's freedom
where destiny forms between lips
and summer dresses paint the day
with vibrancy

where the borders of dawn and dusk
slip terror into the comfort
once safe enough to spend a lifetime with

so perfect it should only belong
in a Photoshop picture
where you simply take the flaws
and eradicate them

if I could take these burns
which burn brightest outside
and quietly kiss them away
like all the other things which can't
come back
leaving loose strands in dark subconscious
waiting for their moment to shine

The light dapples in
Throwing odd shadows
On the plastic surrounding me.
Like a strange sunset put there
To taunt my eyes

Each droplet of water
Is another arrow
Shooting new spikes of pain
Through my body

Hundreds
Thousands
Millions of drops
Per second
Splash onto my skin.
1,000
2,000

I could have avoided the pain
I could have stopped this
Not going to the beach
Not going on that walk

But oh, I would not take it back.

Not one second.
Every
Happy
Minute was another
Happy
Memory

To add to my collection
And even
As I lay here
Rivulets of water
Washing down my red skin
I am making another.

You tease me
Like some cruel trickster
Happiness
Dripping down my back

Turned to cruel
Twisted
Pain
Running up my spine like a knife.

Oh, blissful pain
Would that I could feel
You to your full relevance

Instead, you trip over me
Leaving pain in your wake.

Like a torture machine.

This feels so bad
But so good.
Once the water is freed
From the contraption shooting it
Like a pistol in my heart
Onto my skin
It rebels against its maker
And trickles delightfully across me, sending delightful shivers
Into me
Only to betray me again.

Oh, sweet treasure
Would that your painful side were invisible
So
I
Could sleep
Once
Again.

Her skin was red,
from the sun,
she burned,
from the inside out,
she cried,
on through the night,
till morning,
she peeled.

acceptance is something we all wish was contagious,
but true acceptance comes from a heart that is filled with patience.
fingers tremble as dreams race through your bloodstream.
trying on different clothes and attitudes makes your body ache and turn,
outside is an identity that isn't yours which feels as bad if not worse than a peeling sunburn.
"don't." you tell yourself. "don't give in to the personality you've thrown in the highest corner upon the highest shelf.
it's gone.

(j.a.r.)

Staring at sunburns from sunsets-- we watched the waves crash around us.
Bagels and wine; don't even dare to judge us.
With bittersweet goodbyes we washed the sand from our toes and walked home.

Staring at sunburns from sunsets-- we watched the birds fly above us gracefully.
Pizza and ****** beer; don't act like you're better than us.
With bittersweet goodbyes, we danced home with no shoes in the city lights.

Staring at sunburns from sunsets-- we talked about our deepest fears.
Orange juice and tacos; don't act like you know us.
With bittersweet goodbyes we let the wind sing us one last song before we went home to the place we hated the most.