Guts

Do I have the guts
To pull myself inside out?
Expose my tender organs
Get charred by the sun.
It doesn't take much effort
But, it's hard to decide to
I wonder if I have the guts
To do what I have to do.

Ocean

To be like the Ocean,
Its tides and tidal waves,
With its omnipotent potion,
Breaking, opening, creating caves,
Harnessed by the moon's embrace,
Tempered, loved, controlled by space,
Giving in unconditionally,
Not acting logically,
I sometimes like the notion,
Of being like the Ocean.

DROUGHT

I cry without tears these days, my supply has dried up, or maybe someone else needs them more than I do.

Why do I feel compelled
To defend you everyday
Is it a way to protect myself
From what others have to say

I never even considered
That you'd be in the wrong
That you would not defend me
When I'm down and not strong

But, somehow you've proven
I had convinced myself all along
That you were both loving
And made me feel I belong.