it's like you've lived your whole life on the bottom

of the sea

rising now 

things are looking up 

lifting too fast 

you feel like you might implode

too much pressure

too much release

bobbing to the surface 

of your mind 

is so much doubt

not used to riding

the upwelling

not trusting that the surface is within reach

as your hands clutch at bubbles and waves

fingers waving at a reflection of sky

as you float on the surface

like driftwood 

worn and tossed

yet still whole.

This poem is about: 
My family


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