Nobody can never be heard

Tides. How eles to describe it?
Soft? Swaying? A rustiling whistel,
or tempeture droping snakes.
Sothing like a dancing ribbon,
that freezes.
that coils around you,
consuming u until u disappear.
Tides that numbs you like a dream.
Shuting everything down until you sore.
i seek thisfor more than decades.
My tonge absorbs the moisture in the air
that brades with the aroma of the salt humidity.
My hair at a stance, acknologong
the crafter of waves. My ears thobbing for never
a rest, sorounded by roars and crashes.
Unlike my sight.
Never functioning, always closed,
in a ditch of endless darkness.
The breezeis no help etheir, it
pushes,bumps,,and pulls me from all sides
never directing me right.
Sometimes I run straight ahead,
hoping its the right way,
but then i stumble on my foged eyes
coming from the hollow chest and hopeless hunger.
Cuddled in the ground drowning and hating.
I hate my ears ,
that work so well, showing me sounds
i cant make for my own.
I hate my eyes,
that never work,nevr listen,
nevr open.
but mosty,I hate my legs,
always too weak, too foolish and clumbsy,
that nevr run fast enough to the thing I'll die without reaching.
I get up again, hand in hand caring each other so they dont drop.
I walk again, being mocked by nothing but me.
I trip again, on my hope that decreases by the tear.
I stand and cry
caz no one eles will hear