POETRY
in the water, i am beautiful
or something like it
waves crash on shores the color of memories belonging to someone else
sounding for all the world like the front door slamming that autumn day when i was entrusted with our escape
or the time i broke my collarbone (it still doesn’t lay right) (i don’t remember what i did)
or maybe the sea is just as lonely as the rest of us, reaching, ever reaching, but we never stay for long. there is always something else, something new, something more important.
it must be so hard being the thing everyone loves but no one wants enough.
still
water slides over bare skin without so much as a whisper
and for a moment, silence doesn’t feel like a punishment but a gift.
it says nothing about scars or bruises or the things we don’t say out loud as though speech could make them more real than they already are.
it only breathes around me, like I’m a part of something, a vital part. if i hold very still i can feel it cup my head like a small child.
the ocean, a tempest and a rainstorm and my mother.
the stars above, pinpricks of silver, watching me be reborn.
the steady drum of the tide beats against the shore and my heart beats along with it, learning the shape of belonging.
it says
welcome home.
it says
stay.
Chelsea Brown, 2024
