sitting at waters edge, ripped jeans rolled up, leaning back on my hands,

non-descript white tank, cotton and clean, hair wrapped up in a band.

lazily toeing the water and thinking, head lolled back to catch light,

that im kinda fine all alone here like this, gives me the strength for the fight.

jeans splashed by waves now, meandering thoughts give way to a moment of doubt,

i tug at my top, feeling itchy inside, like im trying to find a way out.

the comfort of normal, of used to, of now, so easy for me to slip in,

is pounding away at my hard stubborn shell, just waiting for life to begin,

i sit back up now, tighten my hair, fingers all twined up in strand,

thinking so softly, how maybe id like, to be holding loves gently sweet hand.