Mother

i have always been terrified of the ocean

i have stood on the shore and let the crashing waves cascade freely over my bare feet

soles cushioned by sand and pebbles

water pooling up to my knees

my bruised hands holding up my drenched blue jeans

there are minnows crowding me

they think i am a stone

i am as still as a stone

i have seen waves crash over rocks

higher than myself

i am a small girl

they could easily overtake me

i have always been terrified of my mother

i have stood and watched as she slit her wrists

screaming spiralling fits of anger

i have heard stories of her learning an instrument in five minutes at most

i have always admired her

my bruised hands have held her close to me

she is a small woman

she could easily overtake me

i have always been terrified of the ocean

i saw my mother in the brackish waters of my hometown

the tsunami warning signs plastered everywhere in the bay area

the spiralling instestines that were once in the salmon on my plate

now my mothers eyes look past me emptily

she thinks i am a stone

i am as still as a stone

she could easily overtake me.