I’ve fully pulled myself from the
submergence of a stagnant creek.
Wiping off the moss that’s grown
from my own rotten memory.
I figured –
I could wade in the water with
the leeches, or I could exit with
the scars of their tiny, ringed
teeth littering my skin.
Tis’ not an easy life to live,
Tis’ not a day that goes by that I
don’t doubt the level of color in my
face or the tiredness in my eyes.
Sometimes I glance at the reflection
and see merely a ghost of the broken.
Other times I see the greatest warrior
I’ve ever encountered.
If there is one thing I know for certain,
I am not stagnant, and that has made
all the difference in my tide.