Tread Water

Three puffs for a whole ton of courage

to speak the truths of a generation

that doesn’t like to talk.

Briefly texted short sentences will suffice,

I’ve been told

“Stay on the surface

Don’t let yourself get too attached.”

Well, I don’t want to just tread water

I’d rather drown before I forget

Just how much I love to swim.

(Com.Pany)

His darkness reminded her she still had a light. So she stood there, ossified, watching the fury and sadness he tried to hide behind those green eyes. She wasn’t that broken, but she knew where he was. He looked back at her as if she were miraculous, as if she could feel just where he’d been- and worst of all, as if she had been there too. She could now see the waves of anger move up and down his body, in waves of electricity, about to jump out at her. But she locked her eyes on his without fear, without concern for his criminal past because she could see, clearly, that he wasn’t his crimes.

No, he was human. And his level of pain could only come from a heart so big that no one bothered to take the time to nurture; feed; understand. But here and now, she looked at him and he knew that she knew exactly where he’d been. He was broken, as she, but more violently so; passionately so- and much more willing to scream about it. But tonight, of all things he was, at least he wasn’t alone.  And neither was she.

(Com.pany)

To feel alone is such a terrible feeling to feel. It’s a tragedy, the way we have now come to live. Can’t trust one another to care enough so as to take time out to sit and understand that we’re all different, and that this is better than just ok. If you’re happy, you’re privileged. If you fought the battles in your life and you came out alive, well, that’s a privilege! And it is so, even if you didn’t win. It’s a blessing to have the opportunity to fight in life. So fight, and fight hard and never EVER give up! Because fighting is half the battle in living; and living through the battle is half the battle in succeeding. Even if broken, one half numb and the other half dead, you’re still alive. Your heart is still beating strong. Your breath is still hot in your lungs.

“Listen, please just stop and listen,” she begged and then continued louder than his now subdued whispers:

“You are not your acts! Forgive yourself. Forgive this broken society we live in. Forgive the people who never locked eyes with you and confronted you like I now just did, without judgment or fear of you. Forgive all these idiots.

But most importantly- forgive YOURSELF

Forgive yourself.

FORGIVE. YOURSELF,” she articulated clearly, her words forceful. Then quietly, she whispered back to him:

“I do.”