It hits me in waves like surf on the beach
Continually hitting and tossing me around
Covering me completely as the tide comes in
The current taking hold and drags me out
At times like this I’m a bottle with no cap
No choice but to succumb to the journey
If the bottle fills then I am lost, drowning
I slowly sink barely attempting to fight
I would refuse the hand of salvation
As I know I have declined in the past
I would shut the world out, locking the door
Despairing in solitude, giving up the fight.
If the bottle half fills, the tide carries me
I could float for days with no sight of land
Hope barely a flicker but the light is on
To get washed up on some new shore
Like so much flotsam on a deserted beach
Ragged and exhausted, to tired to fight
Whichever way the tides have taken me
The journey is one of despair, self loathing
Mind shutting down to feed on itself
Ignoring all help, denying to even try
The world outside is an alien landscape
Taking months to acclimatise once again
©Trevor Litchfield
No comments:
Post a Comment