when i bob my head above the waterline,
my lungs expand to maximum capacity, and fill,
for history tells me of the uncertainty in the timing
of my next upward tumble into oxygen.

and insight feels the same way.
when my ego, superego, and id all align,
the rush of wholeness overcomes,
and i search for pens and paper
for history tells me I will soon forget
being myself ever made so much sense.

lately, in therapy,
i have been working on building a floaty
and hopefully, later, a boat
so the thrashing won't be so intense
so even if i dip under, the sun will stay in my eyeline
so i will be able to lead myself home
so i wont forget that home truly exists.