Sandhead This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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I tried to pull my head out
from the sand
but my brains had eroded away,
mixed with crab carcasses and
dried-out seaweed.

I watch the waves foam
like rabid rottweilers,
gouging their paws into the shore and
I wish they would carve the words
lodged in the back of my throat
across the beach, but I know

it's up to me to dive the depths
and find the words
nestled in some oyster shell,
just waiting to be said.

but all I do is think about it
with my withered-away skull.
when I make a move to do,
I crawl back in my shell
and into the sand.

wither away some more.

pretend you're not real.
that the words aren't real.

soon I'll be a sandman.
maybe a sand castle
and the waves can wash me away.
at least then there'd be
nowhere to hide.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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