I started to pull the glass from my feet.

It hurt like hell, but no more than it did 

when you left.

Bruised and beaten from the fall,

I stumbled on,

ignoring every danger sign I came across

while hobbling across the shoreline,

Trying to get the seaweed out of my hair,

The sand out of my clothes,

But I cannot.

 No matter how far I try 

to run 

I am always pulled back to 

the water.

Because fish can't live without water.

I can't live without water.

You are the water.

I am the fish. 

One of the many in the sea that you have created 

but the only one still alive.

When I first jumped in the

water seemed funny,

but I ignored the signs.

The water,

laced with poison 

and pesticides 

filled with absolute crap,

Got to me. 

I thought if I swam far enough I could get away.

But I cannot.

Because no matter where I go you are there. 

So I convinced myself it was love. 

People often say they want to drown in the person they love.

They drown and the one they love brings them back to the surface where they can live.

 

I just drowned.

I didn't resurface because the garbage piled on top of me

All the things that you said,

No one will love me,

No one cares about me,

I shouldn't want to be me,

I'm lucky that I have someone like him beside me.

I didn't realize that your definition of a relationship was my

definition of dictatorship.

I didn't realize the sand was a trap.

I didn't realize the water was only a mirage.

I didn't realize the fish all ended up dead, 

but, here I am.

I saw the sign for your beach.

Saw it as I was driving by,

it called to me.

I was sucked into the peaceful waters but chose to ignore the tsunami

of waves that would crash down on

me during the slightest mention of a storm. 

So as I sit here, pulling the glass shards out of my feet,

I throw them back into the ocean.

I throw back every single piece of 

bullshit you have ever said to me back at you

People love me,

People care about me,

Everyone should want to be me

You were lucky to ever have a chance at being with me.

 

All the glass is gone.

My feet are bandaged and tired. 

I carefully put my shoes on. 

I stand, pack up my blanket,

Pack up my umbrella,

Pack up my things,

Move out of the way of the water,

Walk back to my car, 

and sit in the driver's seat.

 

I read the number five times.

I dial it, one number at a time.

I put my phone on speaker and back out of the open parking spot. 

I hesitate, but only for a second, then hit call.

"Hi, I'd like to report a beach that is unfit and dangerous for the public."