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I wade through the frigid waters of my thoughts.
The murky liquid swirls around my boots,
lapping at my waist.
It wants to swallow me.
I know it wants to swallow me.
What I don’t know, is if it wants to swallow me whole and numb
or tear and mash me up, painfully, as I lose feelings limb by limb.
As I wade, I find things lost but not forgotten.
Star Wars action figures, toy rockets, and a cheap replica astronaut helmet full of shattered dreams,
the dying breaths of which fog up the glass.
I find old chemistry reports, razor blades, and diary entries,
next to used people and unused condoms.
There’s a flash, and I glance up;
Thunder strikes and the Heavens open their eyes,
recovering from the blinding light,
only for tears to rush out in downpour.
I remember what I am here for,
and the water clears,
the rain lightening as the clouds are comforted by my certainty.
It will not swallow me.
I will not let it swallow me.
There is no fear for the one whose thought is not confused.
. . .
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