a quiet beach,

golden sand,

and crisp blue waves            ;

it seems to be

the perfect place.

you set down your towel,

put on your sunscreen.

you never knew life

could be so serene.

sun-kissed eyelids,

body embraced by warmth.

you let down your guard

(what could possibly go

wrong?).

you watch the waves

and the far away tide.

it’s time to drift off;

you close your warm eyes.

before you can think,

the tide moves an inch.

“that’s peculiar,” you say,

but think nothing of it.­

it touches your toes—

uneasiness sets in.

“it’s just paranoia.”

you won’t let it win.

the waves inch closer

(you don’t recall it being this

cold).

“just think of the warmth,”

of reds, yellows, golds.

 

your thoughts are interrupted

by the water’s icy touch.

you want to leave now

(oh, you want that so much).

your body is frozen;

you can no longer move.

what on earth is happening?

you’re going to lose.

high tide sets in

as it reaches your legs.

you tell your body to run—

you practically beg.

it caresses your thighs

with its disgusting, cold lips.

a second passes by

and it’s now at your hips.

your golds are now blues;

your yellows, now black.

you squirm in the sand

as it massages your back.

you can’t fight it now,

so all you do is wait;

you’ve thrown in the towel—

you have now sealed your fate.

it touches your lips

and you jerk your face away.

you’re not in the mood for kisses—

not from it, no. not today.

 

it reaches your eyes,

your vision now in blue.

your motivation is gone—

there’s nothing else to do

but let it engulf every inch of you,

be taken into the sea.

you think that it’s destined,

the way it’s meant to be.

it takes you in

with its evil grin.

your remnants: a towel,

some sunscreen, your shades.

it doesn’t matter—

you won’t be seen for days.

the wave of depression

is a monster with no soul.

this is what it feels like

to be swallowed whole.