You can stand unwavering

underneath the massive blow of a wave 

coming in off the coast of the Atlantic. 

The salt sprays onto you 

and coats your hair in a sheen 

that glistens under the morning sun. 

Painters wake up before dawn to even have the chance 

to bask in your presence, begging you 

to let them delicately replicate your divineness. 

You let them of course, you relish the moment 

and spread stories about yourself 

even to the most disinterested, 

elderly fisherman. You know of your reputation 

to wreck a ship faster than a cannon could, 

whether it’s true or not. You adore

that people adore you. As you continue 

to weave a delicate

and beautiful web of lies about who you are 

and what your life is, I forever 

am drowning in the cold sea. 

The one moment the sea is calm 

and I make my way to the surface

to break through the confines of the bitter water, 

you, in a fury, 

claw at my legs and force me under 

before I could take a breath 

of the heavenly air. 

You leave deep marks along my calves and feet, 

gashes that bleed into the Atlantic, 

amounting to nothing in the enormity 

of water. 

You use my body 

to climb back up to the air, yet again. 

You push me down

and pull yourself up. 

You don’t even get a full breath in 

but would rather you have not enough air 

than allow me a full 

and rewarding breath. 

I need a breath. 

I need to breathe. 

For a creature who boasts 

about her raw power and ability to accomplish, 

you sure do need me to stay under

indefinitely. If you are brighter

than the sun and stronger

than the waves

then why must you keep me under

the water? Surely, 

the painters would still always choose 

your grandness to paint 

and ignore me if what you proclaim 

is surely true. 

I want to smell the salt in the air, 

hear the cooing of a mourning dove, 

listen to the whirring of the fishing lines, 

get sand stuck to my wet body. Underneath 

the now vicious waves,

a single ray of light 

is allowed in. Not nearly enough 

for a body like mine. I am drowning 

under the weight 

of your projected perfection 

even though I am the creature

that knows the truth.