Drowning
I’m drowning.
I’m getting pulled under.
I can feel the water slowly filling my lungs
as I scream for help,
but that scream is muffled by the crashing waves,
crashing into me
and knocking me off my feet.
I can’t get back up.
These waves are too strong,
and I feel the weight that I carry on my shoulders
shoving me under,
keeping me down.
This weight is too much.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep gasping for air.
The water is in my eyes.
I can’t see straight.
I can’t think straight.
I don’t know which direction is up or down.
I gasp for air,
but all that I inhale is pain.
At this moment,
I decide to stop fighting the tide.
I release my breath for the last time
and give myself to the sea.
I sink without struggle.
The thrashing slows.
The sea grows quiet.
I watch the light leave from above—
and it’s peaceful.
But then I feel a new tide.
It’s different.
I realize it’s not coming from the sea around me.
It’s coming from myself.
I suddenly see all the people I care for,
the people who care for me.
I suddenly see my childhood,
all laid out in front of me like a storybook.
I see my room.
My cozy room.
The room I felt safe in.
The room I spent so much time in.
The room where I stood in front of the windows posing for a picture,
holding up a stupid peace sign with my fingers when I was seven
seeing my room for the first time.
I see my stuffed animals—
my stuffing-filled fabric
that I can’t sleep without.
And I see my parents,
who worked so hard for me to have a good life.
I can’t let this tide take me yet.
Oh how much I just want it to take me—
but I can’t.
I need to keep fighting.
Fighting this horrible current, these horrible waves.
I need to keep fighting this horrible sea
from the outside
that’s trying to seep its way in.
This tide coming from in me pulls me up.
This tide pulls me up from the waist,
and I’m so weak,
I let it take me.
This tide pulls me off the bathroom floor
and takes the pills out of my hand.
And I keep fighting.
I keep fighting the current.
I keep fighting the waves.
And now—
I carry the sea within me.
But I no longer feel as if I am drowning.
We’re not friends,
but we’re not enemies.
Sometimes the sea turns on me,
but never like before.
Copyright © Grace Aloi | Year Posted 2025
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