My Canoe

I am tired; however, I am not the tired that can be fixed with any amount of sleep. I am the type of tired that comes paired with thunderstorms above your head and a heavy weight on your chest.  I feel like Sisyphus endlessly pushing his boulder up the mountain, only to watch it roll back down to the bottom again. My boulder is more like a canoe. It is as though I am in a canoe that is stranded in the middle of the ocean, forever struggling against the tide. No matter how hard I paddle, I never get any closer to the land. Though if I stop pushing forward, I'll drift aimlessly into the sea and be lost forever. The thing is, I know that sooner or later I will eventually have to stop.  In this fight it can become difficult to push through when you lose sight of the shore amidst a storm. Normally, it is manageable to recover and get back on course. Though ,it can seem impossible when lost in a hurricane, especially when they occur back to back. The worst hurricane of all has been hurricane Kimberly. It left me battered, bruised, and without a paddle.Defenseless to the wind and waves, I began to drift further out to the sea. As soon as the storm calmed and things began to  settle, there was a tinge of hope. Then, hurricane Wallace hit.  In the confusion of the winds, I was thrown from my canoe into the unforgiving abyss. This time I truly felt what it was like to drown. I could feel my lungs burning as the water flooded them and was I was completely overwhelmed.  After an eternity of fighting, I allowed the water to consume me. Beneath the surface, everything was calm, lifeless. My whole body went numb and the burning in my chest stopped. I truly felt nothing. The storm above had quieted, the water was again calm, and the sun shined through the clouds. Just as the light began to fade from sight, I rested on a reef. My thoughts were clear as I fully relaxed into the sand. Laying my head down to give in, something caught my eye. It was my paddle, that blasted paddle I had used for years. I was overcome with a sense of anguish as I reached out to grasp it.  Paddle in hand, I reluctantly swam back to the surface. The water was so calm and the so sun shined so bright, no one could have ever imagined the chaos that was there only moments ago. My canoe was waiting for me where I left it; Where it is always waiting.

This poem is about: 
Me

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