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Depths of the Heart

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Everyone has closed their doors and drifted off to sleep, their minds shut. But I’m up. I don't think I want to be. I want to be asleep, away from the world, but I want to still be living. I want to close my eyes to a sunny beach or a tranquil lake. The waves would be rolling and their sounds would be so loud that my head would just empty out, spill onto the sand and burn up under the hot sun. I’d be on the beach- a place of respite, a place of lightness. A clown floats over the ocean and another follows it. Soon the sky above is just pure white and there is nowhere to go that would bring the sun back out. The faster the pounding of my heart, the faster that twinge of gray races through the billowing clouds. The first drop comes then, burning like acid as it touches my skin. That little bead of water leeches all of my power. I’m held captive by the way the world is distorted through its surface. It’s pouring now- I can’t tell where the rain stops and the ocean ends and I think I’m drowning because I can’t breathe. My cheeks are wet and the sand falls through my fisted hands. The roar of the ocean rises and rises to the beat of my heart. It’s me, I am the ocean. My breathe laps the waves, my heart cracks the thunder. The rough sand is traded for worn sheets. Sticky sweat is the only reminder of the ocean’s flood as it slowly recedes back to that unscene point. Everything is upturned, churning, and broken from it’s power. I can’t remember if it was the white hot  sun or the dark that’s blinded me but I can’t see. There’s no stopping it, that force of nature that ravages my soul is imbedded deep in the core of life. It won’t stop, it won’t get better, I won’t get better. I close my eyes again and am taken back to that beach. I let the water rise up to my ankles, my knees, my belly, my neck. The dark sky is mirrored in the angry waves and the crisp air burns my lungs before I let the cool water rise rise rise. The flash of the lightning is not even a blink under the thick darkness. My eyes close against their own volition, guided by the lull of the waves. This is where I belong. This is where I want to be.

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