An odd sort of Poetry · nature is important

every worried footprint

the ocean has no thoughts,

none of her own at least.

her mind is forever burdened

by all the words written in the sand,

and the racing narratives forced upon the shores

with every worried footprint.

 

the ocean has no thoughts.

she is too busy washing yours away.

every hurting remembrance,

all the times you fell too hard on the concrete.

now you only walk on padded floors,

instead, my friend,

sink into her sandy shores.

 

Sink

because your footsteps are heavy

too heavy;

with every broken heart weighing in…

every ‘I love you’ that wasn’t true,

everything you were never good enough to do.

every moment you can’t replace,

every moment the light did lack.

all that pain shows on your face.

all the time that you can’t get back.

you carry that.

the weight of lifetimes resting on your shoulders

burning your back.

 

fall into the ocean,

and let her crush you.

let the waves break your bones,

and feel the tide pull you in

and put you back together.

let her fix you.

 

the ocean has no thoughts

only every heartache written on her shores

washed away

over and over by the knowing waves

incessantly cleansing

the soul of the sea.

 

~the soul of you and me~

 

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