Salt Wounds + Midnight Blues

I wish I could remember the good times

without having to cover my wounds

with salt.

All those days,

flooded with sunshine

and laughter,

sweat and sand,

and of course;

salt.

The salt was so sweet at first,

but now it just stings.

All of those days

of sunshine

and blue skies

that meet the sea;

are like a salt wound

to me.

They sting

and burn my skin;

leaving me feeling

raw. Uncomfortable.

All of those days;

of laughing until I'm lightheaded,

and leaving at sunset--

when the last bit of sun

turns the sky pink and orange

while it sets behind PV.

All of those days

when we leave with our

salty

sandy

worn out

bodies;

that are holding onto

the last bit of energy;

trying to make it up the beach

while we crash and stumble;

laughing some more

as we make the climb.

These days

are like salt

on an open wound.

These memories flood my head

every now and again;

and I can't help it

but break down

and rust--

ironically,

with salty tears

flooding down my face.

I can't escape.

so I run to the sea.

I run to the salt--

quietly hoping

to see you there too.

I sit there,

and see all of the earth

come together in one place

while my life seems to be

falling apart.

The dark sky

hangs above my head

while the sounds of the

sea soothe my salty tears.

In the night,

I look to the sea,

and ask Her a cure

for my salt wounds.

She tells me;

"Wahine,

I love you,

but I can't fix you

this time.

My kieki,

you just have to face the facts."

And just like that,

more salty tears came down

my cheeks to add to the sea.

She reached out

in waves

but I didn't

want her touch.

I wanted his touch.

She added more salt

to my wounds

and it stings.

But although

the salt stings,

salt is what kills me

and cures me.