My bitten nails
glinted in moonlight– jagged
ripples in a sea
I can’t swim out of.
Thrashed by thoughts
of apathetic eyes,
I ran
to disappear with cracked concrete.
But at road’s end
wasn’t oblivion, only a farmhouse
where chimes played
a melody with crackling fields
and heavy breath.
Face to face with the two-story silhouette
the current lifted
me: a whitecap above it all.
Playsets in the yard
and front porch flowers–
evidence that others have learned
to float atop rising tides.
The noose loosened
around my lungs before
I fell
back into myself.
The neuronic sea
calmed by the conviction
that one day I’ll rise
and tread.
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