seashore.

ebbing in tease, begging you to chase and rising with laughter at the failed pursuit - it touches your feet not because you are worthy or capable but because it chooses to. it could take you over, it could carry you away, it could swallow you whole and make you vulnerable victim to the few who are strong enough to dwell within. but it chooses to let you float, returning you to the shore at the end of the day and ebbing in farewell, covered by fog. you wish your heart could be in such control, you wish your dreams could fall in to place not because you are worthy or capable but because it chooses to. you wish your natural course was as simple as the teasing sea, but instead you go home and crawl in to your cold sheets for another night achingly aware of how alone you are.