A Stone in the Ocean

It wasn't a heart shaped diamond

worth millions

and scantily drawn.

It wasn't a jewel

traveled the world over

to be found

and fought over.

it wasn't a rock

that was carved into crosses

as fairies wept

But it was mine,

given from a pile of stones

meant to be shared,

not thrown.

It was round

and smooth

and marbled with moonlight.

I carried it in my pocket

like a toddler

at the beach with a new found shell

my fingers traced the lines

of my worries

on its face

so they wouldn't leave their mark on mine.

Someone had written on it

"Share your story"

a reminder, a message,

a love note I didn't know that

I needed.

So I did. I shared my story,

with the depths of the world,

and it was just a drop in the ocean

but it

was

mine