sometimes I wish it were
the actual ocean
because that’s what it feels like
sometimes
it’s dark
and heavy
and the pressure increases
the deeper i sink
it’s cold
and lonely
dangerous and vast
and has the potential to kill
it’s even salty and wet
(when the tears won’t stop flowing)
sometimes i can’t seem to
get enough air
but it's not the ocean
and i don’t actually drown
no peace greets me
from a realm known for light
because i keep on fighting
to reach the surface
while the lifeguard watches me struggle
from afar
eventually i claw my way up to the beach
where the sun dries and warms me
(at least till the next high tide
drags me back under)
Some days this is just how it is, peeps.
2 comments:
Not happy that you have to feel that way, but I love the poem. Thank you to Doc for keeping you writing! We need you and your ability to make the very personal so very universal. Love you!
So sorry, Blue. But the poem! Oh, post it on the Segullah poetry board. I think it's perfect already, but those experts will help you publish it or make it even better.
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