if i filled
my pockets
with a stone
for every time
i felt
lesser than
unimportant
that i do not
matter
the only beings
that would notice
as i walked
into the ocean
are the fish
i would disturb
as i lay down
in the silt.

a collective sigh
of appreciation
ringing out
from shore to shore
at one less
blight
contaminating
the airwaves
unsure what happened
but sure
it was for
the very best.

when i was
a kid
i dreamt of
being invisible
so that
the bad things
couldn’t hope
to find me
so the pain
would cease
and
possibly
i could find
hope.

as an adult
it happened
i scream
soundlessly
picking up
scattered stones
valiantly
and vainly
trying to
accommodate
everyone else’s
expectations
while dreaming
of the surf
slowly
swallowing me
whole.