Residue

There were blips,
and I could hear the ocean washing over my face,
and ears,
and all the things they told me not to do when they wanted my head above water,

and there was sand stuck to my thighs,
and under my fingernails,
and there was a seagull gnawing on my skull,

my right eye was bashed in a bit,
I could feel it losing its place,
not knowing if it was soft or hard,
but definitely bruised,

my mouth tasted like blood,
but it wasn't repulsive to me because of how hungry I was,

that's when I really knew I was in trouble,

and the hair on my stomach and my arms was longer than normal,
the way it gets when you need to keep yourself warm,

when there's less of you,
and more coming to get you,
if you know what I mean,
though you probably don't,

so I turned myself over,
and trying pushing my chest down into the sand,
and it felt good,
until it felt like I had gone one feet under,

but I could die here,
I thought,
except for the fact that I was supposed to die there,
in that white Colonial,
at the end of the dirt road I had never seen