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Leaving Home
My old self
has drifted off to sea.
I barely remember my gills,
the salty water coursing through
my veins.
There was a time
when the water was home,
but I've forgotten
how to swim.
Maybe I can learn again.
Maybe I can't.
I feel myself breaching for air,
the swelling of my lungs as I
taste oxygen for the first time.
Will I ever taste the gritty,
sanded water again
without choking on it?
Maybe I will.
Maybe I won't.
I am drifting
through the waves
as they crash
onto land.
The beach is dry
and foreign,
but my toes itch to feel it.
Maybe I can walk on my own.
Maybe I can't.
I'll have to make a decision soon.
My throat is choked
underwater,
but my scales shine better
in the sea.
The fish would miss me if I went.
I would miss the land if I stayed.
Maybe I'll go.
Maybe I won't.
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Favorite Quote:
"The moment comes when a character does or says something that I hadn't thought about. At that moment he's alive and I leave it to him." -Graham Greene