Some people are like waves in the dirty sea.
They smell bad. They look bad.
Everything about them is like stale puke and pus.
They drag you down every time you want to come to the surface.
And they carry you to broken ground
in a devastated land of the ocean filled with plastics
and dumped junk.
I'll find you someday rolled in plastics, holding a cigarette butt and glitters all over your body.
I would wipe you clean with my dirty hands.
Then, we would swim to a place with soil and life.