Brackish

Saline, saltish and the purity causes a headache of some sorts, I want to protest, have to because this is not me, I want to be salt like and another me, still me wants pure water, purity like snowflake untainted, white, the last of that kind, I want unicorn and ponies still willing to believe, learn, then comes the bull, the ox, they heave the earth away and my sides they split open, so very reddish, from unwanted intrusion some might call this a felony, others would say be accepting, still more voices till I am hearing a symphony unrehearsed, raw, raw, raw and I am still trying to pry apart the parts not me because I can no longer tell what I am, who I am.