I take my first steps into today’s morning, and my feet are immediately submerged.
The water, it rises second by second and minute by minute.
The sharks, they start circling then snap at my legs as a jellyfish entangles my ankles with his long, slimy tentacles.
He stings my skin something fierce, the discomfort searing deep to my core.
The water, it reaches my neck as I attempt to steady myself, but the swift-moving current knocks me off balance.
A blue-claw crab with a hint of yellow threaded through its pinchers pinches my fingers as I struggle to stay afloat, but it’s not enough.
I’m not enough.
I desperately flail my arms, but the tide is too fierce.
I furiously kick my feet, but the water is too thick to tread.
I scream for a lifeline, but instead, impractical directives are haphazardly imparted to me from a blindness on high.
Unable to meet the demands I face, my head inevitably goes under.
I sink ever so slowly at first, then the full force of the ocean drags me downward.
I’m trapped and I’m drowning.
The water is dense in my lungs, and I cannot breathe.
I fail to stay afloat.
The gulls, they see me, but they don’t help me.
Nobody helps me.
The gulls, they cackle their insinuations that the well-being of an inadequate singleton like me is irrelevant in such an immense body of water.
They mock me in unison, then take flight in every direction with no regard for my existence.
Along comes an octopus who glowers as he pummels my torso with each of his heavy-foot legs, then after three cycles of strikes, he disappears into the background.
But he is never really gone.
I am breathless… depleted… abandoned by all except for the sharks who feed on my flesh and the jellyfish who intensifies his sting.
Just as I begin to black out, a surge arrives from nowhere and heaves me onshore.
I crawl, gasping and spent, then unsteadily gain my footing on the saturated sand surrounding my bed.
I weep as I drift asleep only to become submerged again by the vast ocean of unsustainability with my first steps into tomorrow’s morning.
Thanks for joining me on my journey. I’m glad you’re here.
“Capsized” was posted on jillocone.com and on soulseaker.com on October 4, 2020. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any employer. Copyright 2020, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact firstname.lastname@example.org with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.