My Lighthouse.

In the desert I call home,

I am drowning in a sea of pain,

Waves of bruises and death pushing me back and forth,

Creating a new barrier with every blow,

Making it impossible for me to ever touch the sky.


I feel kelp intertwining with my legs,

a braid that makes me feel sleepy.

Maybe I should just give up.

Maybe I should just stop trying to keep my chin above water.

Maybe I should let the kelp tuck me into a bed of sand.



I let go

--allowing the current take me to the bottom of the sea.


Keep my eyes open for some reason,

Watching my last bubbles of air fly up to the surface.

I glance up,

There is no moon,

no hope.

There’s a boat?

I see a small boat floating by.

Maybe there is something.

I hold onto my last breath.






I try to kick off the deceiving kelp off my legs.

I pull and kick and pull and kick.

The kelp gives and takes and gives and takes.

I pull and kick and pull and--


finally free.




I still have to make it past the merciless waves full of agony and tears.

I can do it.

I paddle and paddle until I can reach the surface.

Running out of air,

Running out of time,

There is no air,

No time.


Lungs filling up with water,

Every water molecule taking up every single square inch of my organs.

My lungs burn with the water.

Am I going to make it?

I’m getting tired again.

I can’t, but I have to


For myself.


I rise above the surface just enough to get a whiff of hope.

Then comes a punch of water.

And another.

And another.


I see the boat and head towards it.

It just sits there.

I can do this.



I paddle and paddle and then

I hit my head on the keel of the boat.

I made it.

But I’m not out of the water yet.

I grab onto the edge of the boat.

Almost there.

Gently pulling onto the edge, checking if it’ll manage my weight.




I fall back to the water.

One more time.

I pull on the edge and the boat slightly gives  in.

It’ll have to do.





My arms tremble as I try to straighten them out, but I let myself fall back into the water.

I’m not going to make it, but I have to

For myself.


This time I throw myself over the edge once I get a good grip.

Struggling to maintain the boat as motionless as possible,

I don’t breathe,

Remaining as stiff as possible like a sardine in a can.

The upper half of my body is on the boat.


























Keep going.



Pulling my heavy legs over the edge,

One by one.

Breathing in and out.

I’m free,

finally free.

Looking down on my legs only to find the wounds left behind by the brutal sea.


I look around my surroundings and see nothing but darkness.

But then,

A light flashes across my face.

I look around,

Looking for the source of this mysterious light.

And then it happens again.


This time I track the direction of the source.

I stare

and stare

and stare.

And then it happens again.

I keep staring until I can make  a shape out of it

And pretty soon I begin to see a silhouette of--a lighthouse?



It’s a lighthouse.



I never would’ve thought a simple lighthouse would provide a road to safety,

A road to happiness.

So, I guess I’ll just follow the light and see where it takes me.


This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741