Dying Light Rekindled

I’ve emerged from the sea so many times. A trembling palm reaching towards the starry sky just above me, digits blue and wrinkled at every crease. So close and yet so far.

So many times have I emerged from the sea, breathing erratic and chest pounding with throes of pain surging throughout a shaken soul. Begging for air. Begging to breath. Lost even amongst the one place I wished to be. Wished for so many times over that a dream soon became a nightmare.

So many times have I reached that violent, thrashing surface, having seemed so silent and still from below. Like the heavens to my hell. So many times have I reached… all before falling into the depths once more. Voice lost amongst the water that consumed my lungs.

“Hey, you okay?”

Your voice seems so clear now, even through a murky and clouded mind. Swiftly drowned out by the people surrounding us with hoots and hollers as loud as a trombone player’s instrument. So quiet and laced with concern that I can’t help but to look up from my shaking hands. Palms pale. Digits thin. You're silent again, waiting oh so patiently, a cocked eyebrow meeting your feature as our eyes connect.

You look like you’re about to speak again, wrap an arm around my thin and timid frame, but I speak first, move away further. I’m sure you won’t catch on.

“Yeah… I’m fine…”

How many times have I felt those frigid clutches, ice cold grip like a ball and chain against my very own soul. Dragged swiftly below the waters like every other time before. Feeling more trapped and helpless than a doe within an open field, tall grass suffocating a dog’s bark that seemed only mere inches away. A deer in the headlights I become. A deer head mounted on a wall I await to be.

How many times have I hit rock bottom, void around me barren of any life within its darkened abyss. Watched that ebony painted surface dip away as though it never existed to begin with. Cradled my knees with a weak and quiet sob, a cry, a word, waiting for someone to release me from my own mind? No one ever does. Did. I never could. Can.

How many times have those words slipped through my teeth, right on the tip of my tongue like a slot in a vending machine. i’m fine… I’m fine… I’M FINE! Always. There was never another alternative. Never another word in my mind that would prove to you that that was the truth… and still you don’t seem to buy any of my efforts to deter your curiosity.

“You look tired. Have you been sleeping?”

You’ve always been the type to dig, even if all you had was a stick, a fork, your palm, your fingers. Bury yourself within other people’s problems until you found out how to help. How to pry them, their minds, from some muddy swamp even if it ended up being just for a moment. A fleeting second to you, a forever lasting one to them. To me.

You seem thoughtful again, that beam sending a million tiny butterflies cascading across my stomach and through my chest. After all, who else would ever think to smile at me that way? As though the world would end if I’m upset? As though you were set to show me that a good time wasn’t always as it seemed.

“I slept just fine thank you very much…” Sarcastic tone lacing my fragile voice.

There’s no doubt you tip your head. No doubt as you refuse to believe me.

And you’re right. I’m tired. And no matter how much I try to hide it it’s true. Slumped shoulders, a quiet sigh. Sloppy trails after my feet and a timid gaze to the boss- the teacher- the guidance counselor. I’m tired. Tired of the fighting and screaming and blaming and crying and finger pointing and leaving and… everything. I’m tired. I’m so tired. And yet I always try so hard to smile. So hard and it’s so easy to tell I can’t.

So pale in the face. So deep are those bags beneath my eyes. So shaky are the hands I hide within that sweatshirt.

I’m tired and yet I can’t help looking so alive compared to so many others. Can’t help but to smile as wide as the ocean I drown within, voice lost amongst the raging waves. Like a train horn to a music box. After all, who would truly understand how drained I am even if I opened up? How sloppily I work and how my grades plummet even though I keep pushing to make them better? I can’t. Who would understand me if I can’t even understand myself?

I’m exhausted and yet you seem to stick around. Every slow and painful step of the way. Tag along… and somehow, some way, that always seems to be all I need. Even just the smallest bit of a push seems to be a life saver. Why, how? I can never tell. But I don’t ever ask.

“Mkay, hear me out.”

You sit up straighter than a ruler, hands planted on your thighs and gaze twinkling like the stars that litter that ebony painted sky within my mind. So far out of reach. Oh, how you always had that look of ambitious pride buried within your eyes. Like a child on Christmas morning. Awaiting so patiently for presents to meet your hands in quantities large or small. Either would suit.

You seem just as thoughtful as you were before, that smile never leaving your feature for even a moment. And I can’t help but flinch, my cold digits wrapped so caringly within your own warm palms. Like lava to ice. Like an ocean to boiling water. One could practically see the steam roll off our touching skin.

“Come over to my place tonight.”

You're quicker to continue than I am. No words having the time to slip through my teeth. Not even a complaint.

“Trust me… I know how much you’ll like this idea. It’s been sitting in my mind for god only knows how long.”

I can feel my hands being gently released, your voice so small I have to strain to hear. There’s a calm silence that overtakes the space between us, and all I can do is watch you cautiously. So genuinely you sit there and all I can do is nod. Agreeing for the sake of your own sanity and our friendship.

“Fine…”

I’ve emerged from the sea so many times. A trembling palm reaching towards the starry sky just above me, digits blue and wrinkled at every crease. So close and yet so far.

So many times have I emerged from the sea, breathing erratic and chest pounding with throes of pain surging throughout a shaken soul. Begging for air. Begging to breath. Lost even amongst the one place I wished to be. Wished for so many times over that a dream soon became a nightmare.

So many times have I reached that violent, thrashing surface, having seemed so silent and still from below. Like the heavens to my hell. So many times have I reached, arm outstretched, clasping at nothing but a frigid wind. So many times have I reached that surface just to gaze at those stars… silently suffering when my vision went black again.

“Come on… it’s right up here…”

I’ve emerged from the sea so many times.

A trembling palm reaching towards the starry sky just above me, digits blue and wrinkled at every crease.

So close and yet so far.

“God you’re slow. Come on, come on!”

I’ve emerged from the ocean so many times, stars just out of reach.

We lie down, gazing towards the ebony black, twinkling specks painting the night sky. I blink, stare for what seemed like an eternity before looking to you. Face pale in the moonlight, smile as wide as the oceans that surround my mind. It’s silent between us. Like a void. Like an abyss. I blink, look back up, the quiet sounds of the night surrounding.

I’ve emerged from the ocean so many times… finally at peace gazing at those twinkling lights above us. Finally at peace resting next to you.

“Thank you…”

And you only smile, our gazes meeting once more. And those stars dancing within your eyes… they’re nothing short of wonderful.