Ashore

Hoping to find, not the shore line that threw me off before
But, a new beach line that promises more.

I’m sore.
The sea weed keeps wrapping around the raw,
open wounds formed when my beloved ship tore,
Wrecked by the jagged edges of a rock that hid more
than the bits I saw.

I’m parched, in an ocean I’m trying to stay floating,
At this point I’m flat on my back.
Kicking with as much fluidity as I can muster,
I’m all but covered in stinging, I’ll confess.
Until it turns into numb mess.
I’m undressed. Not truly, but this ocean was
beauty, and now its up under my dress.

I’m burning with passion, but without direction,
I may just be circling, and that feels like less.

I reach for the repose that wakes me
composed and on the next shore.
I am blessed,
With a world where the sun rises
After it has set.

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