I Am the Pen and You Are the Ocean

I wish only for the waves to pull me under.

I imagine gentle warm waves,

Tickling the inch of my toes.

First step.

The sand bristling against the soles of my feet,

The horizon seems so far.

Second step.

I feel the rocks closing in.

Stones and shells,

Rough drafts for the current in my mind,

And I feel them scraping my legs.

Clawing.

Third step.

I’m standing still,

Knee-deep in the tide.

The sun draws me closer to the horizon,

Setting to dusk.

I must push forward.

I have to chase it.

It brings me somewhere new.

If i believe everything will be alright,

Maybe I won’t be alone in this.

I lose count of the vicious waves crashing upon the shore.

Fourth step.

I draw closer,

Deeper.

The water is at my chest,

And every inch,

I grow closer to the sun.

The more I wade

The harder each riptide pummels into me,

Grasping the entails of my soul,

Ripping away the details of every sensation

I thought I knew,

Leaving me with nothing but a limp breath.

I feel my lungs gasping for the air already.

I feel my ribcage building tension.

I must go on.

I’m close to the horizon.

Fifth step.

I can barely see the sun anymore.

I’m desperate for air,

Yet not so.

I see the cross section of the ocean,

The sea between the universe in front of me

And the fabrications of my mind.

The feeling of getting pulled under

It’s powerful.

I shouldn't resist.

I now see the sun,

Heavily distorted in all of its glory,

Waiting for the tide to wash me over.

The surface grows further

And I feel the horizon.

I feel you.