Emotions hide inside of me like a child
afraid of monsters under the bed.
But once you get older
the monsters leave your bed and enter your head.

We all have won wars
that we don't talk about
because they were with ourselves.
And we each have scars
may they lay inside,
or outside
but we gave them to ourselves.

The comfort at the bottom of the ocean
lingers
but never last long enough.
The salty taste of happiness
always washes away,
but tides leave and come back
and that's what keeps us moving forward.

I want to know the dryness,
because even though the wetness
can be sweat,
I am alive,
therefore,
tides dry shores
and leave sand bland,
but sand is still sand,
even when it's dry.