I am the sea.

Tranquil and calm.

You see me, and I am peaceful and serene.

I am untroubled, and disturbed.

But break the surface, and I am

Deep, and unfathomable.

And you will find me, genuinely

In treasures

In sunken ships

In trenches so deep.

My words are waves

So big they could swallow a person.

So big they swallow me.

They begin as giants

Built of confidence and magnitude.

Nothing could stop this surge.

Nothing will stop the urge

To tell you.

To help you.

To help me. 

But the waves shrink to almost nothing. 

Choppy

Unsure

Eventually they wash up on shore.

Nothing like they were before, they

Shyly glide against the sand, and hide away quick

As if to sneak a love letter to the earth.

As if they know their worth, is the size of that grain of sand.

Countless thoughts flood my mind.

My own words drown me, and

Suffocate me,

As they get trapped in my throat

And resist any opportunity to be heard.

Some dance on my tongue, 

But even fewer will ever pass my lips.

Most pour onto these pages at night.

Maybe I’ll slide this into a bottle,

And someday, 

Someone

Somewhere

Will understand.

As for now, at least my paper listens. 

At least I have my surface.