It comes in tidal waves, in tsunamis,
knocking me off my feet completely unaware.
It churns me round and round,
crushing my lungs and when I gasp for air.
I choke on the reality that I'm drowning.
Drowning in my own fears and sorrows.
I panic, frantically pushing my body upwards
with little energy I have.
Reaching for something, for someone to grab hold of
but there's nothing there, just emptiness,
and so I continue drowning.
I accept that I'm drowning, that I'm dying.
I die at the bottom of the seabed
and wake up stranded on a shore weak and confused,
alone.
Then the waves come again just when I am happy sitting alone,
and I realise how alone I am.
I have no one, so I let the waves take me again and again
and wash up on new shores hoping for some company,
hoping for someone.
//p.s.
YOU ARE READING
Wandering & Wondering
PoetryRead it and relate or read it and understand better. ***TRIGGER WARNING*** Some poems may cause emotional instability. I DO NOT promote any kind of disorder or abuse.
