Please read My Heart is as Deep as the Ocean (Part I) first.
My Heart is as Deep as the Ocean (Part II)
I write a poem about
the depths of my heart
but the truth is,
I don’t want just anyone
exploring those parts.
No man was meant
to live within the sea.
Men need dry land
and air to breathe.
Some will visit and yes,
I may let them.
They may find the shipwrecks
and the lost treasures.
They may fill their pockets
to the brim
then return to the surface
to gift them
to the women there.
I try to be okay with that.
I try to be okay
with knowing that at least
I’ve helped someone else
find happiness.
I befriend the anglerfish
and the Humboldt squid.
I play with the monsters
whom dwell within.
Knowing they’re not monsters at all,
they’re just misunderstood.
I lounge in the warmth radiated
from my deepest parts,
the magma released
from my beating heart.
I take refuge in
the chilly dark.
If I am the sea
and all that lives within it,
then I will marvel
at my own allure.
At the rhythmic lapping
as my surface curves,
luring in explorers and sailors,
with the promise of mystery
and adventure.
For I am vast
and I am varied.
I span across the globe.
There is no end to me,
nor is there
a beginning.
Let the courageous come.
Let them dare to reach
places few have seen.
No, they cannot stay forever,
they need the surface
so they may breathe
but still, I will become
imprinted in their memories.
No, they cannot live here.
They’re not meant to.
But I can show them sights
few will see.
And when they leave
they will always have
a piece of me.
Though they will move on
to new adventures,
climbing mountains
and crossing deserts,
I’ll know the time they spent
deep within my waters
will never be forgotten.
I’m okay with being alone,
for I am never lonely
when I’m on my own.
My psyche and my heart
carry unexplored worlds.
Within my mind,
I’m never bored.
I know too
that it’s often not the men
whom choose
to leave the sea.
It’s me
who pushes them back
to the land.
It’s me who prefers
the solitude.
Who prefers the fantasy
of romantic love.
It’s me who chooses
to swim alone
with my demons
never wanting them
unleashed on someone else.
I am safe here.
And any man will be safe
if he does not join me.
I suppose the one I yearn for
is no explorer nor sailor.
He is the evaporated waters
falling as snow onto the glaciers.
He is the icecaps melting into rivers,
traversing the lands
to find me.
Knowing that when at last
he reaches the sea
he will be free.
The essence of all he’s made of
will join where
it's meant to be
merging into waters
as deep and vast as he.
He will finally have found
his home.
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