Worries In The Sand
I write my worries in the sand. They stretch across the beach, one after another. I shake as I write them – the pain intense. Finally, I finish. I walk away from them and sit down on the dry sand above the tide line to wait. The waves rush in, lapping over the words, washing them away. The tension leaves my shoulders as the sand smooths out, but the pain is still there. Will death wash away aches like the tide waters? Will I become smooth like the sand as I wash out into the eternal sea of the next horizon?
From Guest Contributor Tyrean Martinson
Tyrean is a daydreamer, believer, and writer from the Pacific Northwest.