Sometimes you can read me like I'm crystal clear. Other times I’m murky, almost blank like there is nothing inside. Emotions are like waves. How was it all created? At first just dry, small pebbles of almost nothing. How can nothing have so much to it? Almost never-ending. Deep down you search, water comes pouring out. I don’t know how the ocean was created, but I can tell you how I see it. Floating like there are no cares, the water glistens like a cracked mirror with no one looking through it. It's smooth and easy to swim through. Then the water rises, so high up you feel unseen. Lost in the darkness of the pool. Knowing the only thing you can do is wait for it to take you. The Ocean by Annabella Revilla ’31 85
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