Original Content*
I've been longing for more,
Searching the shore,
For seashells that haven't been homes yet.
Dipping my toes in to avoid getting wet,
I play with the waves and sand.
I let them kiss my fingers, the palm of my hand,
And I feel the ocean swell inside me.
I taste its waters; like my tears, it's salty,
And I feel at home inside my skin.
Like me, the ocean is a mystery; we know little of what's within.
It taunts those who visit with an ongoing illusion,
Reflecting the sky, causing some confusion.
We don't know its color; in your hands it looks clear.
Its inhabitants are half-hidden; the ones we know are queer.
When it's angry, it can swallow us whole.
If we dive too deep, it will swallow our soul.
But as I wander its beaches, leaving footprints as I go,
Hearing the gentle waves crashing, a steady even flow,
I'm searching for a new place to settle in these bones,
But I don't want to make someone else's house my home.
It's terrifying to begin again and start it all anew,
To see the ways you've been stagnant, and all the ways you grew.
The waves wait for no one; they come and go as they please.
They leave pieces of themselves behind, then drift away with ease.
I want to leave my imprint, like footprints in the sand.
I want to be the space that connects the ocean and the land.
I want to be unafraid when I wander deeper in.
I want to feel alive in this skeleton, this skin.
I am longing for a lover as deep as the ocean is wide.
I am longing for acceptance of all the tears that I have cried.
I know there is no lover that can fill the shell of me.
But I know I want to be explored, and still be left to be.
