Lost at Sea

When I used to write poetry I always compared my love to the ocean. So vastly unexplored, full of unfathomable depth. If you pressed your ear to my chest you could almost hear the roaring of the waves crashing. When I’m serene as my name suggests you float in my calm tides and collect the trinkets I leave for you at the shoreline. But when stirred I’m a raging storm wiping out everything in my path, and who isn’t scared of a shipwreck? I was never put in anyone’s live to be tamed. You can take treasures of the ocean home but the ocean as a whole is never yours to keep. I was to make you feel tiny and humble, but free. To make you dance and sail. To help you appreciate the moon and the salty smell in the breeze. To give you a yearning that no matter how far you drift away you had a desire to return home to sand between your toes, because when life is a burden too big to hold you’ll want to feel small. But if you choose to be more than a tourist you have to explore the horrors that wait in the midst of my beauty. The riptide far out from the shallows, if all you can do is tread water you will sink, and in that my love is too great for most people. I’ll drown you trying to teach you to swim.

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