I dreamt you were the ocean,
waves reaching out and pulling back,
both in equal measures;
never sure, never decided.

I thought if I kept my head afloat,
eventually, the rough tides would pass.

So I held firm
as you crashed into me.

I wish I'd known then
what I know now
that you would always be
just out of reach,

that even if I could touch you,
you would find a way
to slip through my fingers.

I didn't know then
that oceans take what you give
and they don't always take kindly to visitors,

that I can go with the current
or try to go against it
but either way,

you’d swallow me up
before I ever got to see
the other side.

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