You Can’t Own the Sea

[TW: Body Horror]

The seafloor is vast

Filled with microscopic pieces of dirt and sand

That glide on the water with grace

Creating galaxies of dust

The buildings cave into the ground

The stone: soft and eroded

Safes now held by the outstretched coral

Enshrouded in fluffy sea moss,

What belonged to greed,

The antithesis to being free,

Now belongs to the sea

Once populated by vampires

Now a shelter for the deep

Echoes of cries falter the longer it sits

The only sound is that of my heart

I don't hear the fish as they hiss

Only feel their calming presence

As the fish swarm in a circle until

I am engulfed by their glassy scales

And that's when they tear me apart

Limbs float and fall to the ground

Stolen by passersby

As they wait to decay

No one owns anything now

Rotten flesh and bite marks,

Now own the decaying town

Kaiden (He/They) is a creative writer at OCAD who loves all things horror. Kaiden writes mainly poetry and short stories rooted in the horror genre, experimenting with various forms and topics in order to explore personal identity and deal with all of the hurt in the world today.