I've always felt at home during the night

Outside, under the stars

With soft breezes and quiet rustling

In the city, I love that it always looks like the sun is rising

In the country, the roads illuminated by the stars

Not a soul to bother me

But also not a soul to share with

It's amazing how many people write about the sea

As if they know

As if it has stolen their breath

As if the view made their hearts stop

As if the water filled their lungs

As if the water stole their loved ones

As if they've heard a fisherman cry for his boat

They really haven't seen entire families wash away

Dogs returning back to shore

They haven't seen refuse from the 2011 Japanese tsunami wash up on shore.

They haven't even seen the sea shrink away from shore in that terrifying "oh fuck, that's what tsunamis do!"

The coast is a quiet place, because we mourn for what we've sacrificed to live there.

Some of us can't handle the quiet

Some of us cannot mourn any longer

Your "inspired" poetry means nothing when you haven't stood in a way of waves at 3am

It means nothing when you haven't shouted across the beach

It means nothing when you haven't thrown your pain and guilt at it

It means nothing when you haven't professed your love to the froth and bubbles and sand

It means nothing to me

the wind can keep its secrets.

the stars can keep their sad stories.

the moon can stop pulling me away from shore.

the birds can shut the fuck up.

the tell tale heart can beat away,

because I don't give a fuck

I feel as if I’ve left a million footprints

on the beach of your soul

I’ve walked the long, meandering path

of the beautiful things that you’ve seen

felt

heard

I’ve seen the docks where the ships that hold your memories are docked

from small sail boats that hold day to day memories

to yachts that contain precious childhood memories

to ships that litter the ocean floor with the bad

I’ve walked on your rocky shores

cut my feet on your sadness and anger

found small beaches littered with rock shaped rocks

found small beaches littered with driftwood from the great trees of your mind

found small beaches and carved my name in the sand

and sat and wait for the tide to wash it away

but as I sit, I realize,

the sunsets&sunrises remain as pure

and beautiful

as love itself

I chase the sunset

pursue the night

wrap myself in it like a blanket

lay with the grass

to watch the stars twinkle

to watch the planets dance

in a cosmic dance on an infinitely stretching stage

a thousand years and more

of the same beautiful waltz

an eternity of a beautiful soliloquy

of the greatest actors on

the biggest stage

that will ever exist

and is all that exists

There the clouds are the curtains,

the sun the stage light,

the sunsets and sunrises are the most masterfully painted sets

the script written in ice and gas by shooting stars

I do indeed have a few words to say

I haven't told you these things

I don't know that I love you

but I love the way your laugh washes over my ears

I love the stupid little noises you make

when you're listening

I love your jokes and your seriousness

I love your passion for the things you love

I don't know that I love you

but I love the things you do and the way you exist

and that's okay with me

the difference between day and night

can be as striking as oil and water

the ocean and the sky

the trees and the earth

red and blue

the cover of a book and the pages of a book

but there will always be a little bit of day in the night time

in the porch lights on the small little houses

in the city lights that twinkle and turn

in the stars that blink

and the planets that turn in the distance

the night will always insist on being present in the day as well

in the dark alleys

underneath the stairwells

in the eyes of a soul who will never be happy

in the shadow of the tall, tall buildings

they will always mix and swirl together though

in the dawn and the dusk

where the sky meets the ocean

where my heart meets yours