Red Sand
The tide has gone out to sea
taken everyone but me.
So I sit here alone and cold,
staring at the moon
longing for you to hold.
Night breaks into day,
everything still at bay.
I shutter with that warmth
as fingers dig into open wounds
left by you.
Pretending to hang on
before you had left and gone.
Salt water now burns my flesh
in the wounds you left.
Leaving me sitting on blood stained sand
waiting for someone who’ll understand
the pain of the sea
you caused me.
~paul prins 8/13/03
It’s an amazement to me how there can be such polar emotions over a single action or event. Such love and hate rolled together, bewilderment and confounding thoughts. This poem is the second part of the previous poem, Like a Blue Bird. I really don’t have much else to say right now.