Brine

The tears of Edna Pontellier.

They said, “Once upon a time,”

which never happened.

I had my girlish fantasies

all gathered into a box.

When the ring bound me,

I lay dormant and quiet

in the deep, waiting to be freed.

A shell of me lived my life,

not truly feeling.

Soulless.

 

The boat of my body was about

to crash into the rocks.

Suddenly, I came back,

floating up from the depths

of my imprisonment.

So suddenly I was myself again.

All those past reveries I once had

bobbed into the back of my memory.

So many anchors weighed me down,

keeping me from sailing away

on the sea.

 

One thing life guarded me.

You kept me afloat

just as I was about to drown,

empty shell as I was.

You brought me to life.

But what for?

To live in an agonizing,

oppressing world?

 

Brine curls down my cheeks.

Yes, my melancholy is yours.

Everything here is yours,

but my soul can’t be.

Sure and swiftly,

I walk into the breaking tide.

Step by step

until the oxygen is liquid.

My tears return to the sea.

We become one.

Finally, my soul is free.

Author's Note

Inspired by Edna Pontellier's struggle for individualism in Kate Chopin's "The Awakening."

Reviews

[inconsistentsea]

I enjoyed the strong imagery of this piece. I have not read The Awakening and I feel you have brought life to the character of Edna for someone with no information about her background. I also enjoyed your word choice. Each word adds to the gravity of the poem.