Little Fish

I know you, I thought as I stared at one of the fish in the tank.

A perfect little angelfish hovered just in front of my face.

It looked as if it was peering back at me.

The longer I stared the more I noticed a few scars.

An extended gill, a couple chips out of some fins.

You’ve been hurt, I thought, I know you.

You’re just like me, trapped in a tank being forced to swim.

Never resting, always beaten down by those you’re imprisoned with.

It’s never easy, but then again is anything?

Maybe it does get easier. Some things have at least.

I’ve escaped. I was able to leave behind some toxic waters,

The Beta fish that continuously chipped away at my fins.

I have hope for you little fish. I smiled a sad smile.

I’m sorry this is all we know. There’s more out there for us.

We’ve had to relearn how to swim over and over and over.

And although we will find more comfort and more love,

That doesn’t mean the pain is over. It’s always there.

There’s always something coming up over and over and over.

I wanted to hold the fish, to give it a break from swimming.

It’s so hard to stay afloat when everything comes crashing down.

Waves pulling at us over and over and over.

Will we ever catch a break, little fish?

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass.

The fish flinched, but didn’t leave.

I tilted my head wondering what the fish must be thinking.

Does it feel actually trapped? Is this all the fish has ever known?

Does it think we are the trapped ones? Maybe we are…

The fish started slowly turning and floating upwards,

One final stream of bubbles before resting at the top.

Several fish darted towards its now dead carcass.

I stared at myself in the reflection of the tank.

Now empty where the little fish used to be.

A silent tear falling down my cheek.