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Creative Writing



Upon the sand, lay seashells that scatter.
Each one a unique and distinct pattern.
Song of the seas, echoes on the spiral,
As a woman listens to the screech of her trials.

The shells are oblivious to when the tide comes.
Where it decides to go and what it brings,
what bodies of water it decides to visit, 
and what creatures that come with it.

Through storms that no man dared to brave.
In each and every scrape and rough wave,
the frail shells float lightly into the mad current.
Riding each and every moment.

Yet she doubts if her soul can withstand the world’s strife;
Stay afloat, and face the unpredictability of life.
The never-ending surges that seem to swallow her whole,
barely catching air when life gets out of control.

In life, she wishes for constancy & continuity.
When it’s ironically found in growth & fluidity.
That even if the tide crashes and recedes ceaselessly,
something beautiful remains - secrets & treasures from the sea.

Sometimes she wished to be that,
remaining unbridled and unscathed despite her past.
Amidst the dreary winds and strong tide,
though the waves, through the wake - she will rise

Sometimes she wished to be that, 
and give in to the flow of time at last.
To trust and see where the tides take her,
knowing she will make it to the shore - flawless & whole.

Maybe that’s why she picks up shells on the shore,
how it thrills her to see perfection once more.
It reminded her that people still find beauty in you,
no matter what troubles you went through.

- Andrianna Dawn Merced