seashells and sand

i was cleaning today

the filth of my life

the clothes i don’t wear

the sh*t in my mind

the sweats from our trip still with sand in the pockets

it all sprinkled out

i was sad to have lost it

i would scoop it to save it

to add to your box

with the knives you had gifted

plus the custom made watch

this all feels horrid

but what’s there to do

your pride has you there

mine holds me captive too

i found my old black purse

in the back of the mess

i went through the findings

and you’ll never guess

seashells and sand

i’d collected with him

a fly by night f*ck

from a trip on a whim

the irony loud

as i admired the shells

while i looked at our sand

on the floor where it fell

i grabbed a small jar with a lid and a pen

i shook it all up in a potion

i labeled it “them”

seashells and sand

mixed with love and a f*ck

from florida

to california

two different moons struck

i’m keeping the sand

you can’t have it back

it’s the latest trophy

for my soul painted black

you didn’t know sooner?

you’d hoped i would change?

you had it all planned to keep me locked in your cage?

i wish things were different

i warned you

i did

i waived the white flag

i ran from you

i hid

now here i am

in the pits of this mess

with these seashells and sand

held tight to my chest

it’s best not to call

it’s best not to write

i’m here under the moon

with this pen

on this cold black as onyx night.

.

-ursula the alien xx

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

disclaimer: this blog contains fictional writing — not based on real-life names, places, or events.