Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Tide


Along the shore the tide always rises,
and then it falls.

I sit on the beach and watch
with my hands tied and feet cemented.
The waters engulf.

Sometimes I flail around,
trying to free myself from that which holds me down.
Mostly, though, I just sit there in the water,
letting it rise above my head.

Stillness.

Pretty soon the liquid crescendos.
I open my mouth and the let the water flood in.

Some would call this illogical,
but it is my only means to survive.

The water is cold.
It is in me.
Chills spread throughout my body,
and yet I sit here minute after minute,
hour after hour.

I am drowning.
I have died many times before.
I will die many times again.

Death is bizarre.
Death is warmth.

Without death, I die
and with it, I thrive.

Along the shore the tide always rises,
and then it falls.

- Teddy Grahams

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