Ink Ocean

Written: August 7, 2019

She's as pretty as the ocean at sunset but as shallow as a puddle, while I'm busy drowning in my insecurities.
She's the tattoo ink dripping all over my skin as I resist the urge to shed tears to the best of my abilities.

But I'll admit, her adulation towards me has me on edge; I'm as unbalanced as they come.
Her blandishment and affection have been my bread and butter ever since day one.

Still, I've made it clear about the way I feel, and she continues to be inconsistent.
Fully aware that my pursuit of winning her over will be nothing less than persistent.

My feelings for her have no choice but to flourish when feeding off this illusion.
And she doesn't realize that her enamored demeanor only adds to my confusion.

She may have subtlety stood her ground but she's doing a horrible job of keeping me at bay.
I don't know where I stand, but I refuse to be thrown into place where undesirables reside in dismay.

I'm invested but I'm not blinded by lies she may tell me in pursuit of my control.
I don't really believe her, I just inhale everything she says, even it artificially sweetens my soul.

As much as I want to continue to ignore her, I'll probably be the one blowing up her phone,
And open the door for her to come and go as she pleases, having her company, then to later feel alone.

There is shame in dipping toes in toxic waters but if she really wanted me, I wouldn't mind it.
I know there could be more for me out there, but as long she is in the picture, I won't find it.

We are both in the wrong, and there is no one else involved to tell the story or shift the blame.
There is also no denying we both need this, but the way I need this is no longer the same.

She's become a stimulant, ink ocean, an uplifting euphoria of directly attacking fears and anxiety.
But it's stays, keeping me grounded and down to earth to face adversity like it replaces my gravity.

Up until now, I've never understood the aura of walking chin raised and wearing my crown.
I never saw how being comfortable and confident would keep me afloat moments before I drown.
This ink radiates off my skin, and the pain is behind me, but she's compliments all around.
So I stay in close proximity to the ink ocean, this may be my favorite game but this is her playground.

Reviews

[Lisasview]

First read of yours and I found it rather interesting...
To be so into someone but not sure of what is going on (or how this person really feels about you)
This can be crazy making.
You are obviously in love with the person...and accept her for who she is.
I do love the metaphors you used throughout.... I love metaphors because they make us think and that is always good.
The act that she is pretty but shallow is so sad..and that because of the wy she is you are insecure.
Using tattoo ink is a great metaphor...
Basically I do so enjoy your poem.
I wrote a poem Innocence which is full of metaphors..you might like it.
Lisa, now in Spain