Sand is to Water as Water is to Sand

If one compressed a thought, feeling, expression, or idea.

Could one ever compress it small enough to simply fly away?

A thought is to instinct as is feeling to natural, but expression is as to choice as to idea is an option.

There is no choice or option for my unwanted thoughts and feelings, but there is for my ideas of expression.

I compress and grind down my thoughts and feelings till they are as fine as sand and I eat the spoon full of sand along with my pride. 

I then fill up a cup with thoughts and feelings as clear as water.

I take a sip only to see the grains of sand that have infected the water.

I dump out the murky water and refill my cup with the thoughts and feelings I understand and want, but most importantly allow.

Only to see once I turn on the faucet, grains of sand come crashing out into my cup as waves, that are overflowing and spilling all onto the floor.

I start by walking through the sand to finally escaping by swimming through it to find the clear blue ocean of water i’ve been thirsting for.

I cusp my hands and start to sip the clear cool blue water while my toes are still submerged in the sand.

I calmly sip the water while the sandstorm behind me blows.

I am safe from the sandstorm for now, but an ocean is only so big.

I want a whirlpool to drown me but I am starting to choke on the grains of sand from the storm.

I hope that as long as I refuse to acknowledge this island that the ocean will drown it with me.

But an ocean is to calm as wanted is to simple, and a sand storm is to brewing as I am to dreadful.

I feel the pressure of the sand pushing me down and compressing my senses but all I do is take another calm sip. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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