There’s a myriad of things you won’t let go of.
Like the bouquet of thorns scratching your wrists,
And the ring of poison ivy wrapped around your red tinted fingers.
You are to wed today,
A beautiful shore covenant.
Yet several things swim in your head.

Your betrothed berates you.
Your lover lies and deflates you.

Your eyes a shade of gray,
Washed away by the ocean,
On your wedding day.
Into the foamy waters you stare.
Regret is a fretful thing,
Yet you stand unshaken.
You won’t let go of your reflection.

Now the water is clearer on the other side.
The fluid image you followed wavers into a polar portrait.
Of the beast you always were,
The one that rages inside.

The creatures all around spectate this spectacle.
They knew it all along,
Your betrothed is thee.