Monday, 10 September 2012

I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song,
I just can't remember who to send it to.
When my lungs burned, I surfaced.

I swim hard against the current. The waves want to pull me back out, the water rolling swiftly west, out to sea. I keep fighting it. I kick so hard my thighs begin to ache and then suddenly I touch bottom with the tips of my toes.

It's always just as I'm about to give up that I realize I'm close enough to make it.

As the water level uncovers more of me my skin begins to itch and blister. I look down at my arms and legs and see ashes smeared over my skin, hot embers leaving angry red welts on my flesh, Cole's words burned into my limbs stating his rules.

You can't cover this. Clothing won't hide it, nor will a stiff upper lip.

My hair begins to smoke in spite of the fact that it is dripping, loaded with salt and seaweed. I turn back, looking far out where the whitecaps begin in the wind and I can see the layer of memories bouyant on the surface, a charred remorse ready to drown us all.

This was why I floated so easily. This is how I got so far.