Descriptive Writing Beach

The distinct scent of dead seaweed also known as the “beach smell”, filled my lungs, the saltiness in the air making a burning sensation in the back of my hoarse throat. Frigid gusts of air pierce through my flesh like a sharp knife, the hair on my skin standing on end like needles fighting against the fabric of my clothing. Dry eyes from all the wind and tears, I gazed off into the endless deep blue ocean and the cumulus hanging above, like a damaged cotton blanket that still managed to shield the bitter waters from the sun’s fiery light. A light downpour made distant objects hazy and you could see the specks of water droplets, falling to the earth in a slanted manner as the wind thrusts them slightly to the right and creating the therapeutic sound of rainfall accompanied by an

I stood there, stark and lifeless, my breathing shallow as I gave this decision another hard thought, followed by another. I glanced downwards by my side, from the edge of a cliff that is slowly but surely being eroded by the waves crashing below me, layers of sediments diffusing into the water. My body felt hollow and fragile like a Russian doll without its smaller counterparts; if someone were to tap me on the shoulder I would’ve collapsed, followed by a shatter as solid shards that were once me sprawl across the ground.

The hole in my chest is extremely overwhelming, sometimes I wonder if I still have a pulse. Wind combed through the strands of my hair as it waved in the air like a flag. This constant migraine and a fuzzy feeling wouldn’t leave my head, as tears rolled down my expressionless face for I felt exhausted from the crippling misery that engulfed my very being. My feet were planted to the ground, despite blood flow being constricted in my lower body from how long I’ve stood still there making my legs unbearably