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The Tides That Pull Me

Iím in the rough unpredictable seas of life. Some days the waves are high others they are low. I remember when I used to wade out into the ever flowing waters of the ocean, for when the surf was ruff Iíd dive right though, or catch the waves that swelled before me. For they all were conceived from the wind above and the cold currents below. I loved swimming in this vast ocean, for I always had some thing to come back to ashore for, there was always someone to hold on to me, and rescue me when I would tier from fighting the tides and strong currents of life.

Yesterday I was riding a-top of a wave, yet ignorant to its size I could see it all. Or so I thought, It felt good and invigorating to see the world in a different perspective. But while atop of my wave it crashed down beneath me, and I fell into the ruff trembling surf.

I struggle to gasp for air, but I canít tell which way is up, as I continue to spin around in the ferroshous currents. Finally I surface and it takes time to regain my barrings. As I start to comprehend what has happened I look to the shore and see that thereís no one left for me. They have all been washed awayÖ. All that is left is hot burring sand allied with sharp broken slivers of glass, that would burn my body and cut apart my very soul.

As I grasp of what I see, I still donít know what to do, a strong undertow now pulls me under. I try to fight but all of my energy is now gone along with all of my will. Yet, I still continue to try and keep my mouth and nose above the thick cold watery line. For my instinks wonít let me just quit, although I want to. Iím so tiered, so beat up and lost with know were left for me to go.. I choke and as the current swells, and my heart beats faster but fainter with each passing second. Panic, Fear, and Disspare shake of whatís left of my soul, as my hands reach-out they try to find something to hold on to. But water always slips through my fingers, there is one around to pull me up, and I continue to slowly succumb. I just wish the tide would push me. Push me towards the rocks were the violent surf would smash me against them, making it quick for me. But it isnít, Iím stuck here as the ocean slowly pulls me under. I continue to struggle as grow weaker but I do not fight, for I gag and choke as I fall into its dark mouthÖ.. Ö . .. . .

By: Brady Smith

cc Sunday, March 16, 1997