The Wave: A Poem

Every time I feel warmth, I close my eyes and blissfully dip my feet into the water. The water gets colder.

I feel whole and then,

The sea, once oh so gentle becomes my worst enemy.

This water surrounds me and makes me feel uneasy.

I look around to see what brought it here, but I can't see past the waves sloshing and swallowing every last bit of me.

I want to get out so bad, I hate this.

I look for the shore, the warmth, the blanket, the umbrella I once lied under smiling up at the crystal clear sky but it's all misty and stormy — completely hidden behind the clouds of misery.

The water has turned ice cold and my skin feels clammy.

I try to distract from the shivering by remembering the way the rays of sun embraced me like a warm, comforting hug.

But down and down, further I tumble, the more detached the memories get from me.

As I fall, the seaweed almost reaches out to me with comfort. I grab it back longingly, but it entangles my wrists and forces me down to the pit of the ocean.

Finally, the wave gives up, and I'm left stranded on the beach.

My lungs are irritated by the salty water and my eyes sting relentlessly.

All I can do is pretend nothing happened, lay out my towel once again and hope the dreaded wave stays far from shore.

But deep down I know it will be back soon, so I don't get too comfortable.

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