believing myself content with the long shadows
stretching across my bed.
My vision intentionally blurred,
I saw little, and risked nothing.
My life full
(very)
children, friends, and
a garden full of grief channeled into
something beautiful.
I rarely sat still enough to look at it though.
I rarely sat still at all.
My demons knew the pace of
my walk, but not my run,
so I kept busy.
Productive.
Running.
Staying far enough ahead
so as not to be caught.
I knew in my heart
something was not right,
but chose to ignore it.
Keep moving, always moving.
Smile. Always.
My mask,
‘fine’ personified,
exhibited a high-functioning,
albeit hairline cracked,
façade.
In the solitude of night, though,
my demons would catch up,
tearing skin from bone.
Each morning, I’d arise to
dress my wounds,
slip on my merry mask,
and begin my day.
You came in like a whisper.
Practically dismissing you from the start,
I appeared in my mask and finery
and merrily conversed
about the weather.
In time,
gently, bit by bit,
like the moon
pulling the ocean to shore,
you came in.
I didn’t notice the water
lapping around my toes,
my heel, and, in time,
my ankles.
The tide came in,
my mask slipped,
fell, and splashed into the
water surrounding me,
now waist deep.
Panic,
frantic flailing,
gasping for breath.
Needlessly though, I realized.
Oxygen was abundant
and the limitless cerulean sky
stretched above me.
Unaccustomed to the light,
I strained to see
what was before me.
The water,
chest deep now,
lapped against
my thudding heart.
I inhaled and leaned back,
letting the water catch me.
As I finally exhaled, I found myself floating
in the light.
~ Mk Michaels
