Swim back.
Faster.
You must get to him.
It will **** him.
No, you were too late.
It’s already gotten to you.
You try to swim under it but it’s too strong.
It throws you around like a leaf in a hurricane.
It’s held you under too long.
You’re drowning.
You’re dying.
You try to swim to the surface.
You cough up salty water.
You raise a fist in the air for your rescue.
You can’t scream.
You thought all of your training would prepare you for this moment but instead you’re terrified.
There’s another one coming, more than twice the size of the last one.
You look everywhere, but no one is around.
Just white water and the gloomy sky.
It hits you.
You try and swim down again but you haven’t caught your breath from the last hit.
This one lasted longer than the last time.
It feels like hours on end.
Keeping track of the time only makes things worse.
You open you eyes so see the swaying water that is killing you.
When the swaying stops you take a gasp for air.
You’re choking so bad it’s like you were still drowning in the water.
The water starts to calm to the way it was.
But the way it was before seems much scarier after what you just gone through.
The person you tried to save was ok.
Saved by someone else stronger, and more prepared for this moment countless times before.
You can’t focus on the humiliation.  
The humiliation of when you try to save someone, when you can’t even save yourself.
The big strong wolf everyone thought you were back at home is now just an idea.
In the aftermath of this moment, you are scared.
Scared of the next wave that will probably **** you next time.
That feeling of death right at your doorstep.
Getting over it is just a saying you said to other people.
You said this to them because it makes you feel better about yourself.
The more you say it, the more you believe it yourself.
Days pass and you made the decision not to go back to that place.
No one cared for you there anyway.
What’s the point of doing a job that involves things you now have nightmares of doing.
You realize that you never had really happy moments there anyway.
The only good moments you had was when you were alone.
Alone with your good moments.
Your proud moments.
Maybe that wave did a good thing for you.
It made you realize the true suffering you were going through.
Worse suffering than the wave.
But it doesn’t matter now.
Because of your suffering and ptsd from your time spent there, you quit.
And you might not ever come back.

I know you have questions.
I know you have wounds and scars.
I know you were hurt before, who wasn't?
I know you think you can do everything now.
I know you think time is in your hands.
I know you think life is longlasting, a slow ticking bomb.
Think. I said think. Thats what you think. That's what I thought.
Now I know that questions would have answers, and some, were just meant to be unanswered.
Now I know the pain I felt, is nothing but a blessing.
Now I know time is fleeting, that life is so short.
Now I know, now I realise that there is a time. For everything. In due season.
Everything that happens, happens for a reason.

i watched,
as the words turned to a
heap of blackness
it bled through pages
amongst hinges
along binding
staring,
i viewed something that once was
in wonder
in realization
words can easily be diminished
and be simply just
if not taken passed the mind and
heart first

“Oh, Cupid!
Give me your bow and arrow
You are doing an absurd job.
How hard is it to hit the heart of my beloved?”

“Here, I’ll shoot it myself.
I’ll aim and let the arrow fly.
Look. Look how it sinks into her chest.
And watch. Watch as she falls head over heels in love with me.”

“Oh, what?
I missed?
Okay.
I’ll try again.”

“No?
Not this time?
Again.
Can I try again?”

“**** it!
Why?
Why won’t it work?
Why can’t I aim right?”

“What?
I can’t control it?
It’s a force beyond my control?
It’s a power I don’t have?”

“Why then?
Why then!?”

“Why did you shoot me?
Why’d you hit me right in the heart?
What was that for, Cupid?
What was that for!?”

“If you won’t hit her...
If I can’t shoot her...
If she will not fall in love with me—
If I cannot make her fall in love with me..."

“Then why?
Why did you aim at me?
What is this sick game you’re playing?
Tell me Cupid, what is it?”

Watching a giant cockroach was I,
pushing across a ball of dust
he seemed satisfied to trace,
a path between the table and door,
but soon he turned and jogged in crooked rings,
and flipping over to scratch his back-
as if a victim of a mild
panic attack.
After a while of climbing open shelf's,
he looked uncertain where to go.
I don't know what he was thinking,
but I knew I recognized myself so.

It has never been clearer,
that I’m lost when I stray too far from You.


I really wished I said this earlier,
I hope it’s not too long overdue.


I suppose it’s better late than never, so:

God, how do you do?

I imagine colored dye
Floating through my brain
Showing the inconsistent chemicals
The lack of even concentration
A dose of something unexpected
And my eyes turn round like saucers
I feel everything so intensely
I can understand the inner-workings
Of the feelings I never understood
My obsession with lost love
Finally whispered it's truth
I do not regret where I am today
I simply miss feeling the happiness
That accompanies the memories that haunt me
I must come to terms with the fact
That happiness will return to me
If I stop hanging onto the past
And embrace the beauty of the unknown
That will bring me more happiness
Until then
I will allow myself to connect with myself
No judgement
No fear
No regrets
Just acceptance and
No expectations