Do I even belong at all?

I see the point where the sun meets the sea,
Glistening in effervescent orange,
Hues of orange pulp and pineapple slices take over the sky.

I picture myself on a beach,
Eating those fruits –
I look back out, the sun has begun to sink.

Relief –
Almost as if my breath were holding the sun
Hanging, steady, in the middle of nothing,
Echoing how I feel;
Suspended between my reality and my thoughts,
Verisimilitude.

Floating –
I am a set of eyes,
I see the sun drowning,
Relief turns to fear;
The sun is leaving.
Will it come back again?
Will I?

I am a set of eyes,
I see the encompassing blue of the sea,
I long to be a part of it.
I trail the waves and drift back to the sun,
I let the fear encompass me.

I am a pair of hands,
I shake and shake and shake,
Working on the page,
Moving from the top to the bottom,
Nothing is clear.

My hands point to the little bit of sun that remains,
I sigh;
It’s leaving me.
I’ll be more alone than ever,
The sea, the darkness, and me.

The sea’s waves are rolling and rolling,
Yet I remain still,
Thinking of how essential movement is
I shake, shake, shake my hands.
I drift back to the sun.

The smell of salt wafts into my room,
I am there;
I am one with the air,
The salt guides me closer to the sea,
I can almost sense the waves building, and crashing.
I am one with the sand;
The waves caress my feet,
They trickle onto me and leave, over and over again.
I cease and fall, cease and fall.

The grains of sand take over me,
I feel how they build each other up,
One by one,
Numerous grains make up this one vast body,
And I tell my cells to move,
To build,
To make me.
But I am stuck in a state of verisimilitude.

Back and forth, between here and there,
Not knowing which one is real,
Not knowing which one I belong in,
Or if,
I even do belong at all.