Showing the ocean my t*ts *

I am terrified of the ocean. Sometimes she wants to kill me, but at the same time I have spent thousands of hours sitting beside her and staring into the depths contemplating… everything.

A man who abused me ended up dying a few days before I went to study abroad in Spain. Loss, confusion, gratitude, and grief consumed me, just as I hoped the waves would, at that time. Every night I would buy a pack of Stella Artois and sit in the sand and stare at the ocean until I ran out of beers and stumbled on home. I wrote hundreds of poems at that time, pretty much all shit. But there was something about the ocean that entranced me… and what exactly it is changes all the time. Sometimes it is the strength and how I could be ripped away in a moment. Another is the mystery. Then there is the beauty and the life that she nurtures.

*It’s a tube top and it looks like the bewbs are out but they aren’t, I just laugh at this pic because it looks like I’m teets out on a Tuesday.

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