soft rolling waves 
brushing the shoreline 
come hurling. warmth

that used to make 
your blood boil makes you 
recoil deeper 

from all that you 
have felt and long to 
feel. digging deep

into the sand 
to push it away, 
you recoil 

into yourself. 
this was not part of 
the plan; moving

to the city 
to be part of the 
scene, only to

find you’re constantly 
sinking.