Statue Made of Sand

The tide is so far out I can’t see water anymore,
And yet the sand is damp, the grains so sharp and sore,
The space is just so vast, I feel I’m miles from any shore,
And yet I run away so fast from what should warm my core.
The feeling is like ice stabbing shards into heart,
The frost bite creeps my bones and pulls my lungs apart,
The headache throbs again and my hands reach up to meet,
It brings me to my knees and freezes up my longing beat.
My rampage thrown at statues, I cry and shriek and call,
With cracking, breaking sounds I slam my fists into the wall,
Trying to grasp attention, again and again I fall,
And you, my frozen lover, are the stillest of them all.
A wood of trunks and branches, all identical and silent,
Watch me, making judgements, and they think that’s what’s sufficient,
I battle with my insides, am I really any different?
From any other girl who had not been owned, but leant?

Look at me I’m dancing,
Look at me, I’m beautiful,
Look at me,
You loved it,
Now you glance away so dull,
Watch me as I twirl the way you once praised and adored,
Listen to me nag for you to do what you once did.
Hear me stutter aimlessly through starts for conversations,
Hear me as I whimper at my misinterpretations,
I watch you as you finally turn your face to look at me,
And suddenly you’ve shrunk me
And your eyes bore into me.

Beginning is so distant I can’t see where it’s begun,
The ending is so near but I can’t tell if we have won,
Your eyes contain the spark that I have longed for all this time,
If only they would smile at me and then I’d learn to shine,
A faltering little flicker of a fire that once roared high,
I gain a pathos glance where we once made the others’ sigh,
But now you’re made of stone,
And now I’m made of sand,
I’ve been weathered, I’ve been beaten,
Where you somehow still could stand.
The fact that you withstood the winds and tides that crept to us,
The fact that you withstood my tears, withstood my angry fuss,
The fact that you’re unchanging,
Even when I plead for change,
The fact you’d rather lose me than just try to rearrange,
Your rocky still opinions,
Your crystal black and whites,
I’m trying now to navigate, between our endless fights,
Yet amongst this stormy, tide less shore,
Where we floated before I wanted more,
There’s something, in you, I adore,
A statue made of sand.