Isle of Elusivity

Mazzmyrrheyes

• 148 reads

Isle of Elusivity

her heart

is an

i s

l a

can’t

swim.

****

lost at sea

HandsOfFire

• 58 reads

sea

when

you

flip my world upside down

a couple of words and

water is leaking into my

makeshift raft

i was riding the waves

and now they slosh onto

my shaking legs too

weak to stand

too afraid to swim

capsized

wood and string and wet

tangles of hair and kicking feet

and

air: a breath above the surface

and bubbles and mouthful of words

lost to the rushing in my ears and

rough tumbling waves

my world flipped

upside down my

arms flailing to find the

break between the water and

sky but my head swims better

than my body and my

limbs drag on

lost at sea

ColdRamen

• 95 reads

Lost at Sea

Falling in love with you

Is like being lost at sea

Without a map

And never knowing

What the tide will bring

Falling in love with you

Is like drowning in salty waves

And hoping that

The sandy surface below

Could become your grave

Falling in love with you

Is like gasping for one more breath

When you know

It will only

End in death

Thereisnospoon

• 59 reads

Out of my grasp.

I desperately grasp out

for something else

but nothing else follows

not even their shadows

I feel lost in a sea

of limited possibility

unrelentless waves

of life's calamity

disquieting thoughts lie

and say it's all futile

but as I breathe,

I also must try.

soggynacho06

• 18 reads

Lost at sea

I'm sailing the world to find you

Why did you leave

I know you didn't want to

But you did

The world is so big

Will I ever find you

No No NO

I'm being blown into a storm

Are you coming to find me

My boat has caught on fire

Burning

I need you

Why can't I find you

Please come back

I'm stuck

Lost at sea

dctezcan

• 63 reads

The boat

Little Johnny, Miriam’s youngest, saw it first. “Mama, look!” he said to her, pulling on her skirt.

“What is it, Johnny?” she asked a little sharply; there was work to be done after all.

“A boat!” he exclaimed.

“So?” she thought. They lived in a fishing village. What was so exciting about a boat? But she looked to humor her youngest, left behind by his bigger brothers who were helping their father. When she looked, she gasped and opened her eyes wide. “Oh, my,” she whispered. “Come, Johnny.” She dropped her broom, grabbed his hand and ran to the water’s edge.

It had been 20 years since she had last seen the boat. The ship. And him. Everyone had told her it was a dream; an overactive imagination. She must have fallen and hit her head while climbing the rocks where her mother often found her daydreaming. They’d spent days searching for her on the rocks and in the sea. Then there she was, running to the village as if nothing were amiss, telling tales of a big boat, a handsome captain and other nonsense no one believed.

Her mother tucked her into bed where she was made to stay while they checked her head for bumps and her body for bruises. There were none. They shrugged their shoulders and went back to work, grumbling about that daft Miriam frightening her parents and wasting everyone’s time story-telling. Meanwhile, her mother fed her watery soup and listened as she rambled on about the handsome young captain who let her wear beautiful clothes and feast on food the likes of which they’d never seen before.

Once they let her up, she went to the water’s edge every day for weeks, searching the horizon. He’d said he would return, she told them. They told her she was a fool. There was no boat. No captain. Lost in a sea of despair, she finally stopped waiting; hoping. Her parents married her off to the cobbler’s son. She started living as she was meant to do. As they all did.

But the ship had returned; he had returned. She felt his presence though she could distinguish no one in the distance. She smiled a youthful smile; then remembered she’d left youth behind a long time ago. And dreams. A weight settled somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. She lifted her hand to wave.

“Come, Johnny,” she said, turning from the water. “Let’s go home. We have to make breakfast for papa and your brothers.”

“Wait till I tell them about the boat, mama. They’ve never seen such a boat, right mama? It was sooo big…I can’t wait to show it to them. I saw it first, right mama?”

“Yes, darling.” She glanced over her shoulder. The horizon beckoned; clear as far as the eye could see.

“Come, mama; let’s run!”

“Yes, let’s,” she said breaking into a run, away from what might have been or never was; Johnny, towards what could be.

LaffyTaffy

• 56 reads

Overboard

I’ve been lost at sea for so long I’ve lost count of the days. All the sunsets and sunrises blur together as a meaningless message of time.

Compassless with no sense of direction or purpose. I float there like dying seaweed being fried by the sun’s rays.

A rough wave lurches against the side of my boat and my body is flung over the edge like a rag doll. I can feel my shoes pulling me to the depths below, knowing full well I’ll never resurface.

Still, it’s better than being on land.

Drown in the water or drown in the paperwork.

I’m not really surprised this is how it ended. After all, I was the one who threw the compass overboard.

libbythepencil

• 29 reads

Lost at sea

my parched throat begins to burn

coughs crumpling it up like a piece of paper in a fire

i shield my eyes from the blazing sun

i dip my hands in the azure tears,

tears of the sea

is it crying for me?

FoxandTortoise

• 48 reads

Waves and Stillness

If it wasn’t for the waves I don’t think I’d have a problem. Even if I didn’t make it at least it would be still.

No, no that’s not true. Drowning is drowning.

Death is death.

But the waves...

They swell

So high.

Just by the elevation my ears pop.

A still world,

Is so much easier to navigate.

But the world has not been still

Not for a very

Long time.

It’s still.

Finnally still

Too still

As if the entire world has forgotten this sea and focused it’s energy on something decidedly more interesting.

As small ebbing promises of movement and quickly succumbs to gravities persuasions I am almost convinced to follow suit.

When there are waves we fight the waves because fighting is what we know.

What are heroes without villains?

But how, in the middle of this blasted ocean, do we fight such stillness?

Merging with my captor almost seems like the only proactive thought that I am able to conjure .

No! No!

There must be more that I can do to avoid flooding my mind.

All of a sudden.

Circumstance blessed me with a gentle breeze and my mind returned to me.

And then I was on my way.

How good it was that I waited.