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Pen By The Cold
Seathekies

She sat by the wall, wrapped up with her legs against her chest. It was cold; too cold for someone with already aching bones. Her skin had been left to brave the winter on its own. Days had passed, and her only thought, “If only time would stop dragging its feet.”

So she penned, she penned by the cold.

And she knew, what it was like to experience the day and miss the night, and lay through the night hoping for the day. From dusk to dawn only images replay, of how it felt like to be held again.

I blame you atlas, a tempter of all the seas, but you won’t be my ticket. You haunt me through my sleep, making my feet itch, my hands clench, my heart palpitate, my breathing harder for fierce desire to sail. In hope of adventures and places to see, with the one I love, this’ my only plea; these are dreams, not plans. Plans are those you are certain to fulfill, while dreams take a miracle. These are dreams, I have no plan.

Aching from both hearts, left and right, a tightness resurfaces and I recognize that feeling— we’d met before. If I know these tears well enough, they were crying out for a glass of water. Yes, water. It’s also, basically, the essential need for survival. You are my essential need for survival.

I still blame you, seas. You are beautiful and can tell a thousand things to my heart, even without saying a single word. You are effortless blue and it’s not even your natural color. You can cry all day and no one will think you are pathetic, because that’s what makes you so ridiculously gorgeous. The weakest of the oceans find refuge under your comfort, and the bravest of them all would never live beyond your waters. You are breathtaking by day, and can shimmer glamorously through the night. Now, will you tell me your secret already?

She sat by the wall, wrapped up with her legs against her chest. It was cold; too cold for someone with waking dreams and a love too faraway.

So she penned, she penned by the cold.