Catching the Crosscurrent

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.

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