Home

I belong to the sea.
It does not care about me. It controls me.
It knows I cannot breathe without it, cannot fully exist without it. 
It knows I will always come back.

Looked out at the boats, bobbing in the harbor, 
like stars in a salty night sky.
Their names pasted on their sides, 
curliques, and blocks and angles
shout and whisper the stories
of life and death, love and loss, 
beautiful women and
the light that got tangled in their long hair, 
sharing that moment
of how they got their titles.

I
watched the salt crusted buoys
dimple the water with their whiteredyellowgreen striped bodies, creating
the perfect unassuming coastal picture while
underneath them
is a lobster hell.

Felt the waves rocking my hips,
my body moving with the water, my
entire being remembering its dance
to the ocean song.
Sounds cheesy, I know.
But that's how it was.
Ducked down
down
down
my hair lazing around my face, for once
fire co-existing with water.
I could feel my blood rushing again, finally, again,
Filling the water with my heartbeat, creating waves –

Felt my protective layer peeling off.
The one made of sad and need and hope, anger and disappointment and misunderstanding. 
It kept out hurt and cold, harsh eyes and words, yes.
But it kept out people too.
Not enough that they'd notice
but just enough so that
I didn't break them
and they didn't shatter me.
And today
as I reveled in the colors swirling around me,
through me, 
like layers of paint,
that hard coating slid off
revealing forgotten parts
of me.

Opened my eyes under water
let the seaglass that surrounds my pupils
that'd gone frosty over time,
I let that become clear and bright again.

Burst back up, filled my lungs
with salty silk air, breathed deeper than I have
in a long 
l
o
n
g
time.
I am so content 
to be Home.

I belong to the sea.
It does not care about me. It controls me.
It knows I will drown without it, knows I cannot fully exist without it.
It knows I will always come back.