Bottom of the Sea

I stand on the beach and look out into the ocean. The waves are getting big now. I see the beauty in it all, the way the earth moves to make something so simple look so beautiful. The way they crash over into the water suffocating any sign of life. I feel my feet sinking into the sand, holding me where it must. I use everything I have to run into the water. I run for the works of life. I run from the misunderstood girl that I had left on the beach. I would no longer be that girl. I stop now water up to my waste. I look up as the wave crashes down on me. I feel my feet come out from under me and the wave wraps around me. I feel like I’m in a dream, it seems like minutes under the water until I come to the top for air. I breathe in and stand back up as another wave comes crashing down around me. As before the wave encloses me. I swim to the top and keep walking. I was stronger than this. I heard the yelling from the beach. It was him. It was Far Away he told me to come back and everything would change. This just made me go faster. I wanted away. I wanted to be happy. I stopped and looked up at him. He wasn’t coming for me so I kept going. 
I could see the still water behind the waves. That is where I was headed; I would swim until I couldn’t swim anymore. I would start over; I would forget what the last four years had done to me. I would pretend nothing had happened. I would be happy. I still heard the yelling no more than the one voice I feared. I swam under the wave as it crashed down. This time it did not send me spinning. I came back up and kept swimming, I was almost there. I turned around and looked one last time and saw the face of my old lover. He was no longer yelling he was on his knees shaking. I knew he was crying. As one last wave enclosed me I fade away to the bottom of the sea.

Let it Reign

Passion is in our souls, there is no uncertainty about it. Though, misery and sorrow seem to keep advocating its way in. I agonize, as these demons’ conquest our love. Frightfully, at times, this is all we encounter. I keep these feelings to myself, terrified of what might happen if I proclaim them out loud. I see the agony in both of us, as the isolation seems to set in. Though we are so near, we are miles apart. I know love still emerges between us. We just need to achieve a way to empower it, and let it reign.

Just A Kiss On The Cheek

Time stops as you walk past; I stare and smile because you look just perfect to me. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re the only one that makes me smile when you kiss my cheek. Some people say it’s just because you are something new, but I think it is about time I got something new. I feel like a little kid on Christmas morning, and you’re the new shiny toy.
You treat me like I’ve never been treated before. With a kiss on the cheek in front of your friends when you are leaving, just to show them that I’m your girl. When I’m cold you take your jacket off and put it on me, even though you are freezing in that short sleeve shirt. Holding my hand and pulling me closer, but still treating me with respect, which is one of the things I really like about you. 
I deserve to be happy, just like you deserve to be happy too. A kiss on the cheek is so much more than just a kiss. To a girl, it’s the delicate start of something beautiful. It shows the true feelings of a man. The smallest little things that a guy does is the most powerful.

Realizing My Worth

Someone asked me the other day if I knew what I wanted to be yet. At first, I could feel my cheeks ablaze, because saying it out loud seemed absurd. I was ashamed to tell anyone what I truly wanted to be because I didn’t believe I could ever achieve it. I knew from the day I was a young child what I wanted, but I never assumed I could grasp it. So, when I graduated from high school and went to college to become a teacher. I wanted to show my future students that there was a way out of the world we are living in. I wanted to show them, we could write about everything we saw, and things we never wanted to tell anyone. When I started taking my education classes, I still felt out of place, like something was missing, and realized I was settling. I had played it safe, and I wasn’t happy. I wanted to be the one that people read. I wanted to be the one that was able to write anything and everything; people would be able to sense it and recognize it. I didn’t have faith that it could happen but little did I know that I would publish my first short story a few months later. However, I didn’t make a lot of money off of it, but I realized I was able to make money off of something I loved so much. I was now a real writer. I had put my writing into the world. People had paid money for them and had asked for more. I always wanted to write and be able to show the world how I saw it. How my feelings and life mattered and how theirs could too. So, I searched for the perfect words, for the perfect sentence, to make the perfect writing. I never let it fall short of what I expected of myself, and what others expected of me.

I Need Not Be

I was there every day, hour, minute, and second. I recall the way I observed myself in the mirror, as the tears amplified. I strived to conceal the emotions even from myself because I no longer wanted to acknowledge them. I would have instances that seemed tolerable. Though, I could find myself slowly slipping back into dullness with no control. I was vanishing back into the person I knew I need not be. I couldn't stop it, no matter how hard I tried, so I stopped trying. All I could do was watch and wish the feeling would go away. Though, it stayed, I could hear a dark laugh in the back of my head. It stayed longer than I ever thought it would. I was not sure how to counter it, or if I ever could. I remember attempting to feel something, anything, but I had already shut it off, my compassion. It was almost impossible to turn back on once it had crooked itself off. I would never sense myself turn it off, but I knew when it was I could sense it after it set in. The concern and kindness just seemed to fade away into something that was just coldness. I couldn’t stop it; it was just there.

Cannot Be Achieved

Have you ever wanted something so badly, but you can't seem to grasp it? Though, it is seen and felt; it cannot be achieved. Reaching, pushing, pulling, but nothing seems to be enough to attain. When does the point of surrender become the only alternative? Where is the breaking point, and how does a person get to that place? How long is trying strained before it is consumed? What triggers people to have nothing left to strive for? Why is trying no longer a component? Watching the existence never alter, wedged in a dwelling that will forever be compressed. Compressed to me. Compressed to you. Compressed to the life that we will never achieve.