BY OLIVIA PISCITELLI
All I hear is the white noise,
And rushing water,
Each wave pulls me further away from the shore;
Tugging, tearing, twisting.
But I see someone standing out there on the sand.
They are smiling wide, their beautiful face looking up toward the sunshine.
My heart pushes against my rib cage,
I want to swim toward them
I want to be with them on the perfect beach
The waves do not release me,
And I swing my arms wildly
The water only proves to be stronger in its endless, immortal power
I can only submit to it.