Pessimistic and Potentially Pretentious Poetry (Pt. 2)


Pierces and pricks the saltwater sea

off the colored coast of Amalfi,

where tourists flow like busy bees.

But tonight the breeze sings quietly

as I inch further and further in.


Pinches and pries from blackened skies

disguising water and whatever in it lies.

Past my open lips and embracing my eyes

it flows and fills me down to surmise.

How the water cold feels better than sin.


Pulls and pushes the current, leads

my willing self to a world I cannot see

where unknowns thrive and breathe

in ways I haven’t and never shall be

so long as wind whirls and time spins.


Perfect and pacific in the disguise

of Mediterranean shores, though I’d advise

you’d swim back before you realize

that you have not the strength to rise

from the selfish sea’s grasp within.


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