it’s said that we release our emotional blockages in fluid form.

sweat, tears.

salt water.

i’d cry myself to sleep night after night.

my anxiety perspiring out from my pores.

holding strong to my sense of survival. the sea level constantly rising.

i carried on. to protect what and who i could.

i began holding far too much. most of which was not my own.

my environment and those in it scared me

less than i did myself, 

although it was i who maintained the line of defense.

i chose who stood with me. and i discharged them when they had no more reason to



i fought to stay.

i made a home in a place i never wanted to live

for the idea of falling off the line meant defeat and i could not bear to allow that.


eventually the tide rose so high that the land no longer remained.

so one night i built myself a boat.

i used my bone for wood.

i used my skin for a sail.

i continued forward.



in the deep sea of salt water,              careless

to what i might                                      unearth.

p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica}


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741