Wrapped Within

The tides have began chewing at me again, 
and the rawness of my feet continue to blister, closing in on a bleeding end. 

It’s humid here. And there isn’t any comfort for me to find in anyone’s voice. 
Clear your throat, but I still won’t be able to hear over the cracking of the waves that seem to roll closer. 

I am stubborn and weak; two qualities I’ve come to realize everyone has. 
I’m leaving my money on the dresser along with the thought that we were in this together. 

I thought if I learned how to swim and learned to let go, I could brace myself against the harshness of unrelenting tides, 
But I haven’t learned to let go, and my hands won’t lead, and I can’t seem to strengthen my strides. 

From my understanding, within the first few minutes you let the tide take you, 
you are engulfed in its swaying motion like that of a newborn. There is enlightenment among such frigid waters, and a passing of time where everyone finds their souls and kisses God on the cheek. 

I feel nothing but a crazed fire and hands around my neck strangling my self-worth with every bit of accountability I had left.
This is not what I expected. 
But what is these days?