all it takes is a stormy sea
to send me crashing
onto an island where no one knows my name
and i know everyone else might have an airplane
to fly away over violent waters,
only having to look down
and maybe laugh at the mess
but i have to tread that water
every day of my life
over and over and over again.
these turbulent waves gnaw on my creaky ship
until it crumbles
as the thunder booms and sizzles,
leaving salt in my mouth

and sometimes, all it takes is that teacup left on the stove
with my heart trapped inside
too long
to brew
and then the teacup shatters,
its shards cutting me open
and i drown in the explosion of hot tea and blood
that drowns the room
and sears my skin
and when that happens my tears aren't salty, they're bitter
but i'm the only ones who tastes them
and they might see me flail
but they'll never have to feel this
through their airplane.
i always wanted wings
but i never was able to fly
and others might soar above me
but i will keep traveling that stormy sea,
wiping that drenching tea
until there's nothing left.