Between us and this divided sea
Between us and this dying sun
Between us and this pale blue sky
Between us and the raging tide
Between us and running time
Between us and yesterday's dreams
Between us and tomorrow's sleep
Between us and the drying leaves
Between us and winter's grave
Between us and summer's taste
Between us and this beating heart
Between us and what's beneath
Are the remnants of our interlaced
Fingers
Still holding onto
Love
Hope
And some reason to
Breathe

When I think of love I think
of my favorite movie playing on screen,
the song I can't get out of my head,
jumping up and down on my bed,
staring out the window riding shotgun,
strawberry ice cream under the sun,
climbing to the top of a tree,
building sandcastles by the sea,
hugs from my bestest friends,
of never wanting this feeling to end.

I've given up on boys.
I'm tired of being treated
like a toy that is only played
with once on Christmas day.

I'm tired of being seen
only for my body,
like I'm not a person
with a brain.
I'm not just something to be obtained

I'm the person
who lifts you up when you're down,
who will always want you around,
who will keep your secrets,
who isn't afraid to see you at your weakest.

I'm tired of being seen for the size of my parts.
Why can't you just see the size of my heart?

dearest you,

my mind is like a blank paper, seems to be waiting for someone to write it a letter. i do not know how to think, what to say, or how to even breathe. in the past, i have seen the hard things in life pass right through me, and i haven't even bothered to react. it looks like i have never been hurt.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my parents telling them that yes, i may be young but i know the feeling of debilitating effects of numbness. that yes, i may be young but i understand the feeling of wanting to drown your overwhelming sorrows in alcohol, smoke, or the company of another person.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my family in which i express that the things i've been interested in aren't wrong. this isn't something i picked up off the internet or from a movie; this is something i've felt my whole life. i've come to the realization that i can love anyone the same way i love myself despite their differences.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my first love, in which i confess my desire and embrace the tender heart that dwells within me for you. while i understand that you may not believe me or ever see me with you again, the love that i have for you remains in every word i've written to you since it is only when i write my true emotions come out. however, the love that i have for you will only live on in every letter i send you.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my mind, in which i convey my view that it is alright to overthink, but that it is never tolerable to forget to breathe. you can't imagine your life without the adventures and warmth you've enjoyed. there is no way to live without conflict or hatred, just as there is no way to live without grieving or shattering. all of this builds to your self. so what's the point of changing it?

this is not a poem, but rather a message to my heart, in which i ask why you are acting as if you don't worry? scared to emerge from the shadows, scared of being crushed, why are you acting as if you are unable to love, as if you are unable to change the world, and as if you are unable to follow those dreams that are passing behind your closed eyes?

this is a letter to them, in which i wonder as to why they are fascinated with who to love at such a young age. why not just wait for it to cross the border? and if it's lost, why are you still there? being in pain and staring as if you are not wanting to try make it today.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter, written to you and your heart and mind in essence. a letter to anyone who wonders while they slumber their laments floating away into the night.

this is a letter from someone who is full of hope and desire to make a difference and leaving a word that you will not be entirely fine if you are not going to beat the whispers from hell.

always and forever,
amanda

~
5:52am
The bright morning sun comes out to play,
considerable yawns
and we are all awake,
anchored in the reef,
ready for its mischief

11:16am
The children excitedly point starboard
to a school of dolphins
leaping for joy as they go by,
little hands wave hello and goodbye,
'thank you' in their eyes,
etched now in their little minds
as a timeless memory

3:31pm
Everyone is napping,
except my significant other,
she slips off her clothes
and enters the afternoon water
for a bit of meditative bathing,
the shimmer of light
reflecting off her beauty
as a siren of Anthemoessa,
I cannot help but somnolently observe
do I dream this belief?
or do I believe this dream?

9:47pm
The boat rocks gently to
the rhythms of the sea,
the stars overhead form
a celestial blanket,
sheltering, enveloping,
their far off twinkles
telling us a story
—a time for spindrifting
—a time for bed
~