Self-destructive (The ocean like the brain)

[LiteraryAntiquity]

Self-destructive. (The ocean like the brain)
LiteraryFailurePiece.

Fallen to an infinite, distancing sea
inching my way back to the beach.
I am worthless in waves of white and grey
bobbing, beside bottled letters, in the evening spray.

At this point I am attempting to show how weak I am in not wanting to face what is going through my mind. I'm inching away from my mental - trying to just be numb. The beach, in a way, is just my physical being with no real thought process.

Standing in your terracotta living room
my mind is as clear as the clean wallpaper.
I am swallowing my way back to the sub-ocean,
You've forced down my throat your wicked potion

The second stanza is supposed to be one of the letters in the corked bottle. A memory of standing in his terracotta living room, trying to ignore the things that are being said. Here I am trying to focus back on my mind with a lack of memory there but I am stuck swallowing a memory he has forced to the forefront of my mind.

Wakened to the noise of bottles uncorked,
I clamber onto a raft that can carry my weight.
I am bobbing above the infinite, distancing sea
and praying to God for a reason to be.

In this stanza I am being reawoken to more uncorked bottles, as if all the bottled memories are uncorking around me and the raft is explaining my source of escape, something above my mind where I do not have to face the current. The God referrence refers to my prayers of loss of memory where I no longer remember who he is.

The seasons are shifting and the tide is coming in.
I could not sleep in the forgotten realm,
this place I swam so you can't infiltrate
this love for you, this internal rape.

Here I am divulging my closeness to the beach, it's the decision between continuing with the painful rememberance or losing all thought of him and as I am swimming to the beach, somewhere he can't infiltrate I am doubting whether I really want to forget him and the things I feel

When the beach meets my skin,
soft pebbles graze my cheek.
I'm a ticking bomb that cannot be timed
and will not seek closure it cannot find.

In this stanza I have reached the beach only to realise I am still totally, irevocably in love with the man, and closure will not be found there I will have to face it to get over it

Still lost to the infinite, distancing sea
inching further, further from the beach.
I am speechless in silence of white and grey
bobbing, with bottled love letters, in the evening spray.

The final stanza is my accepting of his memory and my accepting the pain. I can almost see myself just lying defeated inside my ming with no real hope of escaping and I am left with all the good memories, those which only make it worse.

Hey, Addy, I've got an idea, I'm going to try and explain the thought process as it went along because usually my poems make little sense to others whilst making lots of sense to me. Todd really understood it by catching the 'internal rape' line.