The thing about jellyfish,
Is that they float and sway and drift through the current,
Drift the way they are pushed
no heart to ache
no bones to break
no blood to boil
no brain, no thoughts to make.
Its paradoxical, how I envy and pity them
To be able to hurt but never be hurt
No pain in body or brain
To sting and not be stung
To not allow the smallest shift in tone
To prick crack and break bones.
No emptiness when alone
Jellyfish have empty flesh that can’t feel bullet holes
But the thing about jellyfish,
Translucent in the water, barely there
Just a wisp in the cloudy air
Beauty that does not exist for themselves
But colours and lights and shapes which dance for someone else.
I’m not like a jellyfish.
Though my eyes know beauty just as well as salt water,
I have a heart, though it’s glass too,
Even if it aches and breaks and falls and feels missing from my chest,
It comes back
Like the moon in the sky, it disappears, but slowly, surely, it comes back
Like the warm glow of the first rays of summer sunrise,
While the jellyfish are floating, drifting, sinking like ghosts far under your feet.