Her Frustration...

It was a usual evening,
Me and my thinking,
A cup of tea in my hand,
Sipping it slowly, I’d hardly call it drinking,

I watched the subtle ocean,
Just below the sunlight,
But her cry seemed a bit fierce,
The peace within her wasn’t quite right,

I dipped my hand in the water,
And tasted her salty tears,
A pure faucet of hot water,
Not as calm as she appears,

Removing my shoes,
I walked towards the sun, and her core
Allowing the water to rest upon my waistline,
Swaying me back, and forth,

And there I cried out “say on”
Tell me the truth in your story,
Who hast defamed thee?
Who has infected your righteous glory?

From the east came the wind,
Creating vehement waves of hurt,
Soiled water, Styrofoam cups floating,
Random particles, pieces of a shirt,

I listened carefully,
As she spake of her tale,
She wanted to be free from it all,
The oil, the blood, and foreign eggshells,

For years she had housed folly,
All nested in her skin,
She wanted to release her frustration,
Instead of holding it all in….

And who could blame her,
It was like venom in her blood,
The ocean was slowly dying,
From impurity, and no love,

Before drifting I said “I love you”
And headed back to the shore,
A voice whispered from the wind,
I love you much more…….