N by Izzy Ferrajina


I was taught that blue was a color of




But when you google ocean

which last time I checked, 

is blue, 

            pictures of a gorgeous monster grace your screen.

            The ocean that I know exists is not


                                    or peaceful, 

                                                or fragile,

it is a strong punch or

a loud voice saying they know what’s up.

It’s a kickass woman on my television screen,

stomping her big ass boots around because she

owns the place.

It goes where it wants to go

and becomes what it wants to become.

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