Come back, big bro

I used to hate strong waves.
Losing control to the ocean
And the sly rips were my worst fear
But then you left.
I had a new fear.
It began like the tides:
One day you were here
And the next you were gone,
Constantly dragging sand away
Each time you returned
Until there was barely anything left,
Then I’d come to collect the shells
To find the pretty ones all gone.
You’d stolen them
Leaving nothing but broken fragments,
Later the storm rolled in
And washed away anything remaining,
I stood by my window and watched.
Watched the waves crash down on the rocks
And shatter the emeralds encrusted within them
While the rain nailed holes in the silk of water
And snapped my switch.
I threw myself into the storm,
Allowing the waves to smash over my head
And rip apart any memories I had left of you
Because right then, you weren’t worth remembering.
So in that moment, my childhood fear dissipated;
I now loved strong waves.
The water threw me around,
Carving scars into my soft heart
Without one scream from my mouth,
My blood leaked from the wounds
But I didn’t care.
I was stuck in hell
And then the storm stopped.
I came out of the water
Battered and bruised to find one person:
You.