Underwater Sunrise

it was a control issue

the kids splash
and the many assassin droplets pay my dry coral yells no heed as they deliver wet letters of death to my retinas

measured malevolent mortars prove perfect destractions to teachers’ instructions 

i hope dad gets here soon

fingers wet (obviously) can hardly grip the edge let alone my sanity during flutter kicking excersises

it was a control issue

i never wanted water
dad put me there
didn’t he know what i was missing during those lessons
i didn’t but i could’ve had i not been there
fun things safe things land things

i wanted goggles
mom didn’t get me any
since i had to be there i could at least see
but aforementioned complications made that impossible

if only dad witheld and mom provided..
that venn diagram was inverted and even now i wish young past panicky me realized that was a viable metaphor maybe that would have swayed their insistence i swam

it was a control issue

i had none
i had water in my eyes resentment in my heart and i am unwilling to admit to realizing

that i’m no better now than i was then simply replace water or swimming with whatever you like but the most common theme lately has been sense of purpose yeah that fits the bill others constantly seeming to throw off any inkling of plan and aspects of authority pulling me places i dont want it was a control issue and still is a control issue and issuing this decree may seem paradoxical as i am both the posted flyer and curious reader but

it’s not a control issue

at least not in how i thought and still do
the issue is i am scared i can not handle control if i ever get it

no wait

its not a control issue

at least not how i thought and still do the issue is i think i need control when in actuality i do not
i need harmony

yeah that one sounds right though you can imagine my doubt as i’m both conceptualizing writing crossing out and rewriting as i simultaneously read and reread intrigued playing cat and mouse with myself as if my brain were a duplex not a normal house much less a home picture a jagged blade stop starting over thread frayed

oh how disjointedly i roam

so while i both bow after and applaud my efforts each time i think write act i am finding my thoughts to betray what small fragments of the real i have left i know the sunrise i call to mind when reaching back into my memories searching for a calmer time is wrong

blurry

unfocused as if im looking at it through water in my eyes

that’s it

i’m still at swim lessons. i hope dad gets here soon.

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