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This is How You Find the Sun
Remember how he cast you
out into the wilderness, left you
marooned on an island of your own
misery. Remember how you gave in to
the current. How you wanted to drown,
so you dropped like a diving bell,
down to the bottom of the ocean
in your mind, hoping it would swallow you,
but you didn’t know the sea was already
full of broken hearts, and the tide would
just spit you back out onto the shore,
leave you gasping for air, for love,
when all you wanted was to be an empty
treasure chest, to be the rotting skeleton
of a sunken ship. But you are not an
underwater tragedy, or some wrecked
lifeboat that couldn’t even save itself.
You want to make a grave out of this seabed
to bury your beating heart in, but starfish
and seashells weren’t meant to be tombstones.
Dig your bones out of the sand, you are lighter than
you think. Untangle yourself from the seaweed
net you were weaving for cover, and float
until your palms break the surface of
your soul, and you can taste the sun again.
Because you are an anchor, and
sometimes holding yourself down
means lifting yourself up.
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