Mental Health
Hammerhead
You kept pulling me down deeper into the brackish sea. Please release me from your grip. I wasn't made for all the pressure way beneath. I'm not going to take back all the words I let slip. I'm not going to meet you where the fathoms exist. The coldness lurks in between the fjord and the estuary. There's no reason why you're going to be missed. I'm still swallowing water but somehow that makes me free. I thought you were a savior come to save. You dragged me down, now I'm sinking so you wouldn't drown. You couldn't develop lungs that could breathe ocean salt. I kept searching for the way up but it's no where to be found. The source of all of my strangulation. The chokehold you kept me in wasn't what I agreed on. Asphyxiation is the tether I cannot allow anymore. You continued to disappoint me and it finally became enough. Spiraling into the abyss with no warning. I clung to you so I couldn't face the saline truth. We were the anchor weighing us down together. One of us had to sacrifice but I knew it would never be you. We couldn't be sober and in love. Time is a construct that cursed us violently. We needed the water to baptize and purify us. You were the hammerhead shark and I was the prey. We couldn't force compatibility nor could we change the language in which we spoke. You reached the surface but I wanted the shore. You can breathe again but I secretly hope you choke
By Anna Torresabout a year ago in Poets
Of Past and Grief. Content Warning.
It may be a foreign country, but still its culture impacts. For good or bad, bad or good, the past leaves its mark—undeniably indelible. Whether you lean into it or run from it, it shapes and forms your future. It can secure or derail that future. Just as we can't bandage over the past and hope it disappears, we can't live there.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
