So many lines and laments
scribed in ink and feeling,
for the girl who is the ocean

but she is a swell and surge
too dauntless and wild,
for a lover whose bones crave the shore.

She craves the squalls and gusts,
and cast iron skies,
a worldly drift to sate the salt in her skin,
the deep pull of currents in her blood.

She is chaotic but not reckless,
she is fickle, but not feckless.
Love her boldly or not at all
her bones belong to the sea
but she will always return to the shore.

I want to re-invent
my life.

Break every rule, defy
every expectation

Gather all the professionals
with their long to to lists and

give them a collective ***** YOU.

Throw out all un-purple clothes.
Pack every notebook ever written in

then hit the bricks and who wouldn't?
I am tired and who wouldn't be?

I take out the lists, try again, again

This is a way to re-invent
my life.