On Becoming the Ocean

I look at you and I know what you want.
I look at her and I tell her what she wants to hear.
I look at him and I give him what he wants to own.

I was so good in giving what people want–
what I know they expect from me,
that I lost myself in an unassailable sea–
between paintings of abandoned battle ships
and strong storms that ended the war .

And that was the only way I thought
I knew how not to get drowned,
how to continue breathing just above the surface,
how to barely stay alive.

But living is not about free floating,
it isn’t about following the flow
for you know somehow that the waves
will lead you back to the shore.

It’s about swimming against the tide until you get weary,
until you won’t be able to swim,
until there is no other way than to fall deep within.

It’s knowing that the only way is to become the ocean.