It's under my surface; Always. The irritation rains, collected. Irrigation to the guilt garden in my brain. A thing with no name and shameless fame occupying the spaces between myself and the sane. Built different. Small differences lead to false inferences and does anyone really know who I am; Do you dare dive deeper to understand? If you can. I've yet to meet a man worthy to navigate this land. Hold my hand. Leap over rivers to dry ground and stand. Smile at the storm because you can't outrun the rain. Trust you'll soon get to your bed, a dry pillow for your head to dream of things the heart sees. Informing yet equally frightening. Storm, lightning are only temporary. Soon a distant memory. It’s under the surface of my sea. Dive down deep But come up for air to lay on my sunny beaches, while I sing of things the ocean teaches.
Kristina Rose Garcia