water study
ocean waves swell inside me and crash and crash and crash unrelenting on the shores of every relationship in my life. friends like the sturdy rock walls of jagged cliffs erode, even subtly. lovers swallowed like shifting sands. every force in me carving through riverbeds from source to outlet, overflowing and unruly.
streams run by water’s edge framed in soft soil where my skeleton sinks into grassy mounds.
when life is beautiful around me, i find the rotting, curdling things clung to my bones that much more noticeable.
flowers grow in and around a hollowed ribcage - seeing beauty through me, i have not filled the caverns of my corpse and so i am made of empty, still. gnawing, still. i feel the rocking, throwing, hurdling of rapids and currents and sea foam rattling inside me. it’s invisible.
it’s invisible.
what is wrong with me?
will i always devour myself in every season of my life?
is there a love like air, that rests atop the heaving waves in parallel gusts? something i cannot disintegrate against me?
recurring dream:
i swim in inky black water surrounded by soft banks of moss and silty mud. pools of water similar to my own dot the vast expanse. the water is placid and i feel as if i have found some secret intimate place. a peaceful place. but i become aware of something in the deep below. there is nothing to be seen, but i have a firm, all-consuming knowledge that it is there - waiting watching hunting.
but though i leave the water terrified, i do not leave the shore.
i stare back into the depths that stare back into me.
until i wake up
recurring daydream:
crackling rumbles of deep time, tidal stress and bulge and resonance of the sun’s exertions on mercury. the billions of celestial objects crossing roche limits and being torn to shreds. anything that wanders, dragged beyond the event horizon of a black hole.
rippling on space time. mirroring my own lonely ache.
there is no container for the feelings i feel. they cannot be held as they only exist between the parting fibers of things being ripped apart, only between the suckbacks of crashing waves.
this rhythm within me that weathers all things down to nothing…weathers this vessel i wear down to nothing.
i wait and long and wait for release.
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