The Last Breath

I know it was my time to go, but as always, I dreaded the idea. To step away from something that felt fulfilling in the moment. A sigh, as I pass the person I once loved. Til I acknowledged the fact that my next fixation would soon be born. The beauty in death, is rebirth.

And I was reborn. I had started all the things I had always desired, but this time with no pause, no hesitation. Head on. With no head. But I survived. It was worth the sacrifice. Things I knew were fun, but not meant to be anything, was beautiful. It wasn’t even of lust, but of bliss. Define the difference. You may think they are far from each other, but watch the similarities come together.

Somethings don’t change, and come back stronger. Woken from a dream, for the better. And some things you realize are meant to be kept, but not seen everyday. Nothing hostile. But love in presence. Aware of Beauty in space.

You know what’s unknown, just like space? The ocean. And the ocean is where my life gets wet. Again.

It was summer ‘0-doesn’t matter. A summer when the sun stayed passed 7:30pm and the warmth transferred to the waves as I bodied the current. As I ignored the current events around me.

Living on a boat was as much a fairy tale as any other cottage short story you read about as a child. Romantic even, even though I was by myself most of the time. The way I liked it to be honest.

I could be cheesy and say the fish were my friends, but sadly fish were food. And damn good meals too.

I write to you as my mind picks up speed. Speed that no longer raced its way in the water. There was no need anymore. The beauty of the water was to flow within, to take my time, and enjoy it for its’ presence.

Not everything within had a presence so pure. But those things can be the most alluring.

A night of swimming in the Caspian Sea led to a night of chaos. Blissful chaos. The water wasn’t the only reason I was holding my breath.

A sea, that was not even a sea, claimed its name for the lakes vast existence sought to be like no other. It demanded to stand out, a presence ungodly. Just as the creatures found in the deathly waters. The waves spoke in tongue as those living below had whispers echoing off the curl that entered its breaking point. You hear folk tales on such creatures. Til you hear their screams yourself and feel them next to you.

The one with scales that look like squishy bubbles has the touch of shards of glass. So misleading you no longer question it’s powerful stance to stay alive among the others around it. It’s grip is there only to watch you suffer. Holding on til you find yourself slipping away. And just like that he no longer wishes to be around. When all control is in his hands, he let’s go. Swims away, as you sink to your uncertainty.

My theory is he is feeding something much bigger than him. An offering so he holds higher ranking. For he awaits something much more than he has to offer. He knows he isn’t the prize, the king, the one, so he holds on to whatever he can in hopes to get closer to the one prize that will give him his power. A power aside from skin of glass.

His questionable beauty makes me wonder if there are more of him. But I’ve only seen one. I’ve only experienced one. There’s a familiarity to his every being. It’s funny because I roam the water knowing he’s near, that he could take hold again, but I know it won’t affect me. He never took life from me, cause I always find my way to the top again. Always as if it was multiple times. Third times a charm they say ? Or maybe my luck runs out the fourth. But I pay no mind. Not all is evil down below. After all, some of the brightest ones dive deep to find something bigger than themselves.