Letting Yourself Feel

A wave comes, Rips the sand out from between your toes, Crashes upon your head with a thousand pounds of force. Yet you feel weightless, The oceans currents take hold of your body mass And they don't let go. Their iron grip holds you Safe and close, Warm and tenderly nestled into what is sure to be The method of your own death. The waves are massive compared to you, How could you possibly have some control over a beast with a mind of it's own and a heartless agenda into which it throws you around? Like a whirlpool No regard to what it destroys and leaves in its wake. The whirlpool has power over you, But you're not fighting Because this is what finally letting go is suppose to feel like. It's supposed to feel like a monstrous wave came and swept you away Instead of leaving you at the shore with the calm ripples that tickle your toes and brush sand crabs to your ankles, It ripped you from your soft beach chair. The now tsunami that you thought was just another high tide, comes barreling down the once calm space between you and the edge of the world. But you don't run anymore. You've stopped running. The wave has come, Ripped the sand out from between your toes, Crashed upon your head with a thousand pounds of force. This is what letting yourself feel is.