122 readings


When everything becomes too much, when I feel
lost and held down, like the oceans of this world are crashing
down onto me, I walk out my door.

I calmly swim over my front yard, through the waves
that threaten to swallow me, past grey fins of possible
predators, out to the open water where my toes can’t
touch the bottom. I tread for a few moments, skimming
the surface with my palms, then flip onto my back.
As my limp body floats in the water, murky in its clarity and
chaotic in its rhythm, my gaze moves upward
to the stars.

Each one shines, a speckle in the inky sky, telling
me a story of traveling through time, and
living despite. Spots lost in my peripheral
are found eventually in my line of sight.
After a while, the water drains down through the grass,
and as I hit the dewy ground, I’m reminded
that I am alive.


Image of Lost and found

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