My Father and I

My Father and I
His relationships have made us feel like we put our toes in different varieties of sand. When we sink our feet into the cold and untouched tiny speckled grains, it brings a brighter flash of sunlight on our faces. It’s like a flipping a flashlight to the small letters that read “On”, which means a new beginning of a new path of the dangerous love that can either burn our feet, or caress them with care. This sand is the most powerful we’ve come across. It will give you warmth as your body sinks into it while it surrounds your not so young looking skin, but it’ll become cold when a storm stop by. This sand blazes our feet from the scorching sun. It’s much rockier than the last type of grain. They’ve grown in size and now we’re walking on hot coals and ashes from being burned. The lukewarm water rushes onto shore, drowning us from an argument that my new mother figure and father shared. It’s not only him that drowns in below freezing salt water; I feel it too. All we can do is swallow the acid tasting water, and feel the warmth of the light the following day when it shines bright again.

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