Although sometimes I think otherwise, there’s something special about me.
I roll, I move; I am not the sea.
I have kaleidoscopic dreams.
The others, they are solitary, silent, deep. Seriously, they don’t say a word.
I rest in the shallows, looking for the world I lost.
Once I was more than this. I was…therefore I am.
I know this is true. I believe it. I have to.
The little guys, the ones beneath me, are silent. I despise them.
I long for colour, light, more.
A way to leave this hateful shore.
You can call it colourful, the grey of ocean.
You can call it life and light.
I dream of movement, the road I lost.
I remember tarmac, kerbs, sidewalks, the dry world.
Let me destroy this wet and dreadful place.
I am not destroyed. Look upon my plastic face.
Alice Kuipers is the author of six books for young adults and children. Her work is published in thirty countries. Find writing tips and advice here: alicekuipers.com/connect or www.instagram.com/alicekuiperswritingprompts/
“Maybe I wasn’t in the habit of reading signs on doors that I was about to burst through.”