Diving Session

Do I get into a sad mood on purpose?

Sitting on the lonely stairs

Knowing my creative side kicks in only

when I'm feeling down.

So, I kick myself

down those never-ending stairs.

Hoping to get something out of it.

It might even be fake.

I am confused.

I don't want anybody to see me.

Because I can't explain it to them.

I can't even explain it to myself.

It's a mystery to me.

Like the ocean,

that's filled with thoughts

and many are unexplored and misunderstood.

They swim close to the soul.

They are capable of ripping it apart.

If you let it.

Maybe it's a process that is worth taking and crying through.

So, this poem was born

Out of tears which have no apparent reason.

Out of feeling that has suddenly passed.

It's strange and confusing mess.

It's my therapy, my self-help.

My scuba diver having the reality glasses.

What?

You expected it to have a logical explanation?

It doesn't make sense?

It does to me.

It only takes a few minutes,

oxygen bomb is not for forever but just enough.

Enough to realise I am good enough.

That I am more than enough.

And I am okay again.

Green eyes become browner again. 

They are dry and concentrated.

Photo by Julian Dufort on Unsplash

The dark sky is clear.

The water just blue.

Not a single cloud.

Not a shred of darkness.

For now.

I hope it gets comfortable and doesn't leave.

And he can stay on a land a little longer.

Here's to another diving,

to another successful therapy session.