Updated: Feb 4, 2020
I watch the waves roll backward to their cold dark source;
I wonder, is my ego undertow or anchor?
A swift surge underfoot threatens our undoing,
upside down and under water, where we’ve lost who we’ve been.
Loosen this grasp on the past or sink,
down where the heavy pieces of our lives lay like shipwrecks...
we fight to swim to the surface,
letting go shouldn’t be so hard.
Gasp for air and beware when tempers rise, like smoke from blistered ash.
I trip on bitter tides of hurt, so predictable, this stumble,
falling back into a dated version of myself.
I do not like her much...
I really thought I’d changed...
still, half-truths escape my careless lips, leaping out in dramatic defense,
and the hurt as it lands is a bellyflop-slap!
I am still me, only now
I am aware of e v e r y t h i n g ….
My sharp, petty edges demand I lick my wounds.
Here’s a spoon, for some sugar, choke this medicine down.
I’m still me, only now I am aware of everything.
Broken glass in the sand,
a message washed ashore, on paper, soggy and worn, it reads
Only the buoyant survive,
in truth, no one gets out of here alive,
so release, relax, revisit the depths
with a feather-light heart;
stop holding your breath.
Sunsets and kinder horizons await.
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