Waves

The past washes over me in waves, Leaves me dripping with grief, I said I healed. "But how much?" You ask. "Because grief is a myriad of hurtful memories, You say you didn't drown in it, You say you are keeping afloat. But till when, I ask. How long can you swim across the ocean, With your bare arms?" "I don't know, I really don't. But all I know, Is that the water doesn't scare me anymore, And I am willing to come to the shore. And sometimes, having the moon, Is more important than having the north star. Because, when you have the moon, The moonlight can guide you to the shore, But having the north star on a moonless night, Becomes too scary to row. And right now, I have my moon. So I believe, I'd find the shore soon."