I am finding it increasingly difficult to think with all this sea water in my head. The waves are persistent and while being knocked down more than enough times, I stay. It’s endurance is unwavering.
I trust the flames the saltwater ignites in my nose and the soreness in my throat, begging to be quenched. I am surrounded by water that I cannot subsist off of. It is oddly fulfilling, however. I am a seperate entity of this blue mass, but the way my toes tangle in the sand and the waves greet me, I really am not sure any longer.
Nothing outside of this water makes sense. I don’t understand much about my fishy friends, either, but I know them more than my family.
When I gather my flesh to part ways, the open-mouthed ocean settles, no more battering waves to send me off. I step foot on the sandy shore and weep all the way down that boardwalk back to my rusted home.