It was difficult,
Remembering to be a better person,
My anger, the light sleeper,
Followed me everywhere.
My restless past would come and go,
Whispering nightmares into my pores.
The sea, our distant home,
Knew all too well how to calm me;
The tides inside, the cliffs and falls…
I realized repeatedly
That I had no control over my smiles.
Despite it all,
There was hope on the rocks by the shore,
Something like hope in the cry of seagulls…
Something that I’d have to remember,
The next time my anger woke.