Wake

One of the hurricanes in the early oughts, lots of wind and rain - tidal waves threatening to breach the sound and sweep away cars.

In fleeting moments like this,

A tidal race to see who wins...

There's a lump in my throat,

Tension in my chest. 

As much as I'd like to be a song bird,

I'm a finch with clipped wings. 

Take a breath and try to speak,

But my mouth makes foreign sounds.

Push harder, be louder,

The crashing wake of monstrous waves...

But it's all dashed on the rocks. 

A collision predestined to occur,

Adrift, aimless, alone.

I wasn't like this at 21,

Strong enough to bend,

Things have changed,

Desires have disappeared.

What I want, what I really want,

Is space. 

A wide cavernous void in which I can be at peace.

The world, shut out with all its anxiety inducing noise...

And yet, I can't help but think that this is the fear I wanted to avoid. 

To be alone, to be honest, feels like abandonment of self. 

I'd like to emerge from these depths,

From the crushing pressures that I cling to.

I want more, not less.

To live above water,

To breathe in the salty air,

To finally set foot on solid ground.

Author's Note

what do you think, dear reader?