poetry for the poetic: 5

CXVIII

i live near the ocean
inhaling fresh air on the east side of england
the north sea, right there between uk and scandinavia
and don't get me wrong
there's a beautiful view here
from time to time
but most of my days
i get a yearning, a sorrowful feeling
deep down in my stomach
there's a thick layer of loss
and a thin layer of broken
in this atmosphere, i breathe invisibly visibly
i feel trapped and hazy
without thousands of trees
and blankets of peaceful grass
that goes on for miles
i live near the ocean
and don't get me wrong
i love it
but hate the feeling that it gives me.