Rising Tides

(from Dark Cheese)

Giving definition to this form. This feeling underneath, between the words in conversation, the unsaid agreements to disagree. Can you feel it pushing and pulling at the edge of what I didn’t say. It’s not the way it’s said, but something just beyond.

One day a child was born and all pushed passed it by except those that would abuse him with their love they said was pure. He grew afraid to give the acceptance to take the love of others because of what it could do. He became frightened of hope, because it was like a candle, once lit it so quickly burnt away.

But, inside, something grew, it was like a knot tightening, drawing his attention, blurring his vision, mooring him to the spot. A ship, dragged down by it’s anchor, drowned by the rising tide. Death stood by patiently, like a flight attendant ready to see him on to the next leg of his journey. But then, the tide lets out and he is left standing, wet and ragged, blinking in the sun, the knot loosens a little. He fumbles with slippery fingers to untie it before the next tide comes in…

And so the spaces between my words are fears of rushing tides, and sharks that might be hiding in the waves of what you say. And I wonder, how much love I have given, that, though given in purest intent, had barbs and teeth and bits of knots that caught and held and dragged others down in rising tides…

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