Spent a lifetime swimming in deceptive waters, bled from tears wishing to belong. Gasping for air as the bystanders watch, all the while thinking the noises are splendid songs given out of love. When in fact, they are cries for help wrapped in smiles.
Eventually, fatigue gives in. Going under feels like freedom. Kicking slowly, barely moving, watching the sky drift by, wishing for the end to come with no sight of any other way. There is no one reaching a hand down to you.
It takes a moment of self pity before you look around and see all the floating bodies next to you. Their lifeless eyes as they sway with the waves, the pull of the moon on the water.
You feel the pull on you too. Decisions swirl inside your mind, so many they can either excite you or cause you to stay frozen. Until you realize how desperate a breath can feel and the fight begins.
Alone you embark on the flight to the surface. As you go, you notice the rustle of the bodies. They either turn away or reach to grab hold. The holds are meant to join you, or keep you from your journey and the only way to know the difference is to continue your sink, so go. Run. Leave it all. Those who wish to join you will have to make it on their own just as you, fear wrapped and all.
It might finally feel like the weight of the ocean is crushing your lungs, the tears will not hold back. Your throat will tighten and death will sneak its way to you, like a slow march creeping up behind. Yet, this death, when the time is right, you will welcome.
When you feel as if you cannot do it. The sweet air will never come, you will panic and attempt to scream, only to realize you mustn’t fight the water. It was never meant to hurt.
It is easy. To be an authentic version of yourself. If only you give in to the tides. Others may struggle with the person they wanted you to be, the one you gave away, the one you shed when you decided to be brave enough to traverse the great loneliness.