I remember being on a boat on a cold winter's day.
My heart had just been broken so the water was dark and murky,
not showing me the way.
I tried to peer beyond
The world my eyes could see,
but my soul could not sing with familiarity.
I was an intruder, an outsider,
not a fish swimming under.
The waves crashed faster,
beating in quick succession
as if replacing my heart beats
with the violent crashes of their own.
I didn't know where I was, or why I was,
my heart didn't feel my own.
I tried and cried in the still heaving shell,
but each tear, each crash, just water.
I waited and waited for the storm to abate,
and slowly, surely, the waves began to lessen.
The waves still beat inside my chest
but I could now dry my eyes and to the shore head.
I pedaled and pedaled
so hard it seemed,
but all I could travel was nowhere
knowing not what had came.
My emotions felt muted
unsure of who they were.
I tried to peer through the water, but above
I could not.
So I dove into the cold water,
holding my breath for air.
I swam like a fish
and saw quite clear.
The waves in my chest flowed freely, free
and mingled with the waves so I could see.
I watched them and weighed them like fish at a market
till I rose from the water,
wiser by far.
No longer blind to the warmth of my chest.