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.

 

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