I am so used to be a in a rainstrom left to die in the open sea when the sun comes out it so foreign to me the way it shines and blinds me i miss the strom not knowing if i was going to die or live for another hit of the waves.
I miss the way my boat would rock between the seas and sharp rock below me i was thrilled to survive another blow by the sea shouting at it words i could never say to another sailor.
When it rain the water would hit hard to leave a mark on my skin. I miss the joy of it even if it one that could fatally hurt. The sounds the oceans would make so angry and hurt at those who sail in it. The sea life begging for help to escape the water hell that was destroying my boat.
Now the sun has come out the waters are calm like a bathtub with a rubber duck the sea life returns with welcoming arms at the old friend they miss.
My boat just floats it sails left to right in the blue mystic being the rocks cant reach my boat to tear at the bottom floor. The words i shouted out no longer mean anything just a empty promise. The only marks i get is sunburns when they feel like a string from a ray. The sea and oceans not a guttural bellow but a sweet tide sound bring what fell in the water back on land even me. Back on the sand missing the violent storm. Even the bottle of a ship i lost long ago cant compare to the dark side of what i love about the open waters.
