literature

An Exercise in Existing

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Daily Deviation

Daily Deviation

March 22, 2013
An Exercise in Existing by ~mondays-emblem
Featured by BeccaJS
Suggested by vespera
mondays-emblem's avatar
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Literature Text

From a shore, you watch.

Eyes dripping, contributing to an ocean as wide as space
and as deep as time.

There must be another side, another edge of this vast bowl.
And there is.

Some days you think you can see it, a haze on the far horizon,
like heat on a sidewalk or the hood of a car. You tilt your head,
eyes slit, watching the wavering lines like dancing brush strokes.

Other days, hazy days, there’s nothing more than the clouds
seeping into the water. One long swoop of grey blue green.

And on those days, with salted air sweeping across your face,
hair tangling like serpents, you can breathe again. Lungs ticking
back to life like a furnace turning on. One long rumble.

You stand there, then, taking in cold air and pushing out all
toxicity. Just an exercise in existing.

From a shore, you watch.

Your feet sinking into sand and your fingers subtly moving, glancing
across seams like a gust of air.

There is a crunch of sand in your teeth, born from every swallowed
sound. You’re a silent pillar, salted like Sarah, staring unflinching into
eternity. Let the gales blow past you, carve you down to your bones.

The tide comes up with the moon. Bringing small things to cling and
clutch at your ankles. Adorning you with the brine and other offerings
of the sea. Small tickling appendages to keep you grounded.

So it passes. Your body turning brittle, and your teeth slowly sifting
from between your lips. And some days, you can see the far off
horizion. Like heat rising in waves off of a pan or the hood of a car.

And on other days you stand guardian of your own stuttering lungs
as the clouds boil above you.
301 words. I don't usually write this much at one time.
© 2013 - 2024 mondays-emblem
Comments45
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poppinfresh00's avatar
wow. this is a brilliant description of when life makes you wonder why you still try, when life is an exercise in existing, when we are salted pillars being carved to the bone. beautiful.