Cresting over the crooked teeth of the shore,
The waves lick the base-crumpled cliff.
Every shoreline has a tide
That is constantly returning to
Shake that fine line between sanity and fear and fear of sanity.
Each accomplished stride of the salt-laden waves,
A newborn
blinking in the light.
We forget to breathe each time the water pounds over
Our sunken chests.
And I wonder if Frida Kahlo held her breath when she
first painted those mangled scars.
The same way a soldier forgets to breathe the
First time his finger caresses the trigger.
But my lungs remember
the wind heavy with salt and a tired hope
Skimming over the manic tumult of the ocean.

Have you seen anything this terrifying?
Have you seen anything this alive?

So leave your paintbrush and your gun in the sand
I wont throw you a lifeline
But I'll meet you on the shore