November 3, 2007
The tide,
Bubbles up like hydrogen peroxide,
Killing menacing thoughts
I have on the inside,
Purging me of my very being,
Cleaning myself in the depths
of the cold, harsh ocean,
Waiting of another door to open,
Thoughts bubble up and overflow,
Like a too-full root beer float,
As I coast farther and farther out,
Those odd thoughts seem
to no longer exist
And here I am alone in the swelling,
Floating from side to side,
With no place to hide,
Except in the clear shallow
waters of the shore,
That’s the only place I feel safe anymore.

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