Fool.

Someone once told me that if you stuff your mouth with glitter and walk out into the sea that you could breathe.

I choked.
I am a foolish boy.

Somewhere I once read about a man that grew tentacles out of seashells buried in the sand.

My garden is barren.
I am a foolish boy.

Once a mermaid kissed my cheek and promised that I could swim.

I drowned.
I am a foolish boy.

Untitled.

I found a ship in a cavern. Dark. Cold.

The wood so rotten that touching produced ash.

Golden print worn away depicting a name. Fate.

Water lapped against her and I placed my head against her helm.

I cried until I too was the sea.

I was the sea. Salty.

I was the unforgiving tide.

I was the lover.

I wrapped my wet arms around her and squeezed.

Wooden planks cracking.

I kissed her withered sails and the wind that protected her choked me.

Every darkened corner of her I filled until she broke to pieces.

Splinters. Sinking.

I swallowed her whole.

I found a ship and I made her mine.

Such a selfish sea.