I close my eyes and reach out my hand. I'm hoping someone will come and rescue me.
Rescue me from what?
Rescue me from the overwhelming depth of the ocean that I'm drowning in. I hold out my hand in hopes of being rescued. But what does it mean to be rescued? Will I suffer the same as before I started drowning in the first place? If it does, then perhaps I should just pull my hand away and allow myself to drown.
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Life Gets Real POEMS
PoetryThese poems are written by me and are about me or someone close to me. Life gets real and not everything you are seeing externally is what actually is going on internally.
