If I could run away from me and you,
I’d build myself a cottage on the coast.
I’d tell myself the ocean’s waves of blue
come from the sunlight, not the tears of ghosts.
The castles I would sculpt from shining sand
would keep me from my memories of home.
I’d trace your words into the solid land,
to be swept up as tides gave way to gloam.
The sea is more chaotic than my mind,
and wild enough for me to write for years–
with terror, peace, and madness there to find
the sea might let me bury our shared fears.
But in my heart I know that it’s not true.
Each image takes my mind back home to you.
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