Isolation is the sensation of a small boat floating in the ocean surrounded by an army of vicious waves.
It is lost and helpless.
But it is content with what will come of it, its fate.
It has accepted its destined reckoning.
Although the boat might shed tears of fear of dying alone,
it remembers that there is no one coming to its rescue.
As angry waves collide with it,
the boat floats there empty and hollow.
I am that boat.
The boat couldn’t hold me anymore, it scared me.
Its uncertainty of it remaining afloat became a gamble.
My doomed perishing that I am destined to arrive,
I put my fingers to touch the water, it felt warm.
The weather above the water was cold and windy.
I jumped in the water to finally escape.
With a large inhale I left my eyes above the waterline,
as that lingering faith in an angel coming to save me.
My angel came late. I was under the water by then,
desensitized, finally exhaling slowly.
My angel tipped her fingers in the water telling me that all might not be lost.
My angel prompted me to try to swim back up.
I’m still swimming. She is still there.