Surely you can remember
your youthful frame carefully settled,
enveloped in the ocean’s loving arms,
welcoming salty mist to sear
your soon to be burnt cheeks.

Can’t you remember
standing where the waves break at your knees
and looking out to the endless layers of liquid sheets
as extraterrestrial, golden rays refract into
the serene waters underneath?

Everything seems so innocent,
so precious,
so pure.
Nothing but good memories to be made
in the brilliant light.
You’ve never seen a sight so beautiful.

Until,
an under tide comes
and rips the sand away from under your feet.
It drags you back,
yanking you under
as you claw away.

It can catch you off guard,
pulling you into a fit
of relentless
water daggers.
It can drown you in the moment.

It must had to have been there,
waiting,
slowly building up the courage
to attacks such a jubilant soul.
And so, it grew stronger each day
until the overflowing bottle burst at the shore

Once you’re inside of the water casket,
you’re trapped for what seems to be hours.
It comes in surges;
just when you think it’s over,
it throws another punch at you.

You’re pulled down under again
and you’re burning lungs
beg for an end to come.
You wait for your moment
to conquer the mess you’ve entered,
but you aren’t the one who gets to decide
when you get released from the mental hell.

Do you remember that?
The helpless feeling?
The knowledge that you entered this
and no one can help you get out?
Well that’s how it feels.

That’s how it feels to lose
all the air you have to breathe,
sacrificing it to a psychological mania.
It’s an endless tunnel caving in on what you see,
and you’re drowning in a pool
of tears you’ve cried yourself.

When your raspy voice fails you
and all anybody else can do is watch with fear,
just remember, as another wave hits,
this is a mental attack
from a trauma you’ve created yourself.