Days are a riptide right now
Dragging me under, scrapping
the soft skin of complacency off,
salting the wound
with obligation, duty.
Trying to surface to catch a breath. To see to the horizon.
Find my bearings.
Waiting for light, a clear moment
to swim the crosscurrent. To rise.
No option but to move forward.
Survival is a skill not just to fight for life
But the life you want.
The life I want is shrouded in the murky sandy bottoms of the ocean
I dream of rising, surfacing, catching a new wave
To shore, to the sand, to land upon my feet.