Tag Archives: survival

Take Me With the Tide

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I can feel the weight

crashing down on me.

It’s coming in fast and heavy,

like a storm amongst the sea.

I don’t think my boat will hold…

It’s already got some holes.

HELP.

I’m screaming out loud.

HELP.

I’m seeing water now.

HELP.

Is anyone out there?

Is anyone out there?

Is anything out there?

help.

I can feel the icy blue

creeping on my toes,

like it already knows,

I’m going with the undertow.

I can hear the sound of silence

even over the crushing of the wood.

I can see a long lost part of me

that I know no one else even could.

It’s an abyss.

It’s pulling.

It’s mighty and I’m fearful,

and all I can think to do

is fall to my knees,

join my hands and 

scream

PLEASE.

HELP.

I’m praying out loud.

HELP.

I’m seeing water now.

HELP.

Is anyone out there?

Is anyone out there?

Is anything out there?

help.

I’m clinging on to a sense of false hope.

Gripping a piece of drift wood 

with every ounce of strength I’ve got.

Thinking this will save me;

it will surely carry me to shore.

Never mind the stormy darkness.

Never mind the sharks around my feet.

I’m bleeding out, 

and they’re wanting me.

I don’t see any land in sight,

Maybe I just let them feed.

HELP.

I’m screaming out loud.

HELP.

I’m seeing water now.

HELP.

Is anyone out there?

Is anyone out there?

Is anything out there?

help.

Maybe now’s the time to daydream

about the sunshine I took for granted.

All the sand beneath my toes,

all the grit; all that substance.

The smell of salty air,

and the warmth that hugged me close.

I was never alone. 

At least, I couldn’t feel it.

Here I am. 

Feeling everything I’ve suppressed.

Even with the stars as a shining guide above,

I’m sinking in my loneliness.

HELP.

I’m letting go.

HELP.

Show me a sign.

Remind me of my why.

HELP.

I’m begging now.

Salt.

I can taste it.

It’s bringing me back.

I close my eyes.

I pray.

Lord, take me all the way.

Instead of under, He held me up.

I no longer hear the thunder,

the storm is wrapping up.

He was there.

When no souls were present,

His was effervescent.

I trust a shore is near.

I trust the waves will clear.

The Waiting Room

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I had a dream the other day.

We were in a doctor’s office.

Perhaps it was a metaphor of a true check-up.

A storm was coming,

and the predictions were egregious. 

We chatted about our preparations,

and held small talk about how we were doing.

You haven’t crossed my mind in years.

Unless I’m drudging up mistakes of the past, or the love I’ve lost,

I simply don’t give you access to my mind.

You’ve already done enough damage,

and my rental has been finishing repairs.

I love the reconstruction, honestly.

I’m finally being booked at a higher price, 

the one I should’ve charged for you.

My love met me at the office and you shook his hand.

You watched us leave and I looked back.

I smiled, and could feel my hand grip his a little tighter.

The healing, the growth, the success, the unconditional love, and the value…

I have that. I did that.

Everything you once told me that I couldn’t be or couldn’t have…

here I am, and I have it all.

You’ve crept in the background, 

and don’t feel surprised,

because I saw you.

This dream granted you full visibility.

For once, we shared true transparency.

It was invigorating.

It was powerful.

After all this time, I’ve still held a small amount of pain and anger.

Not necessarily because I’m thinking of you; don’t let your ego get inflated, 

but rather the situations that involved you.

The trauma showed itself in the unexpected. 

Cruel, bent, rusty nails that just wouldn’t budge.

I finally got to tell you how I worked hard to be where I’m at today.

Incredibly hard.

I deserve this life, this love, and this healing.

I deserve to walk away with this smile.

I earned it.

I hope you’re in a similar place, truly.

I think that was the point of the dream.

I’m finally strong enough to wish you well.

54321

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I feel a detachment.

One so sharply edged, that I’m bleeding.

I feel a panic.

One so numbing, that I’m floating.

I feel a fear.

One so horrific, that I’m hiding.

I feel a confusion.

One so obliterating, that I’ve entered a delusion.

I feel an emptiness.

One so hollow, that any remaining feeling is simply the negative reverberations of my thoughts.  

–

I see a void.

Yet, it’s all consuming.

I see colors.

Yet, they all fade to a grey scale.

I see flames.

Yet, it only lingers as ash.

I see a pillow.

Yet, it provides no comfort for my head…

only anguish.

–

I hear my own echo.

It’s haunting, and there’s a crew of spirits.

I hear a slow drip.

It’s an attempt at keeping the faucets of my ego from freezing.

I hear white noise.

It’s the only way I can stay sane.

–

I smell an overpoweringly nauseating aroma.

The one that makes you ill.

The one you can’t escape.

The one that can’t be cured.

Even time has to wait.

Once you’ve inhaled the suffering, you cannot forget it.

I smell morbidity.

The one that seizes your brain.

The one that turns joy to mold.

The one that crumbles to a shady blue in your hands.

Even wine won’t pair well.

Once you’ve inhaled the doubt, it becomes your captor.

 –

I taste a bitterness,

but the longing for peace remains sweet.

The Water

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I’d like to take a second and talk about my current situation. Most people have wondered why I stopped writing/releasing poems. Well, I found out I was pregnant with my miracle baby, back in August of 2021. My son, Bear, will be in my hands come this April (2022). It’s been a tough road to navigate, pregnancy wise, as I am venturing on this journey alone. I had to stop writing for a while, and truly focus on my mental well-being, for the sake of my child. I’m just now starting to write again, and it’s a beautiful thing. I’m proud of myself for the choices I’ve made, and the ones I will continue to make. Thank you to the strangers who have continued to send me notifications of likes on old poems. Each one is a pick-me-up like no other. I am forever grateful to my readers, my supporters. 

This poem was written in under fifteen minutes tonight. The first four lines came to me, in a melody, before I took a shower the other day. I sent a voice recording to my sister, who graciously told me that the tune was now stuck in her head. I also sent her this poem as soon as I finished it tonight. She’s always read my work and responded, but never with a FaceTime call. She said she wanted me to see her face, because that’s how much she loved it. She fully understood the message in this poem, and I think as a writer, that’s all we could really ask for. I mentioned how long it took me to write this, because it’s a reminder to myself that poetry is second nature to me. It’s my home and my escape… all in one. I hate that I had to walk away for a while, but I think my return is even more powerful and meaningful than before.

Cheers to my own timeline. Cheers to my writing.

Most importantly, cheers to all of you.

Enjoy.

I came to terms with the water,

and how you left me to drown.

I came to terms with the water,

‘cause I swam myself around.

______

I watched you leave on your boat.

And sail away with my love and all my hope.

Incomplete, yet set free.

How’d I let you get this hold on me.

______

I came to terms with the water,

and the current that you formed.

I came to terms with the water,

‘cause I was all I needed, and more.

______

I’ll never forget the water’s pull,

as it tried to suck me under.

I’ll never forget your smile,

your pure amusement, or your wonder.

______

I came to terms with the water,

and the sharks swimming at my side.

I came to terms with the water,

‘cause in the end, it wasn’t fear that kept me alive.

______

They waited just like you, 

for a drop of blood or two.

I never once gave in,

and let you all stay in suspense.

______

I came to terms with the water,

and how I made it my friend.

I came to terms with the water,

as I’m bound to swim in it again.