It’s whispered one way and I hear it another.
My heart doesn’t pump blood, it beats with saltwater. The same essence of the rainwater, the storms.
I want to be taken there again. Where your voice alone took me. But this time, I want you to come with me. Into the storm, into the electricity. I fear it in one way. It’s not like I’ve ever been good at weathering storms, as much as I love them. Which is why I welcome them. I welcome the violent winds and trees falling, potential dangers and darkness.
The freedom is approaching but it feels overwhelming, as waves. Being pushed down and pushed back and pushed under and being expected to swim strongly. Most of the time I can. Most of the time I speak the waters language. But it has taken on a language of its own, entirely.
I’m not hurting.
The water holds me tight, it pulls me to where I feel is uncharted territory, but it doesn’t hurt me.
I’m not comfortable, either.
Being pulled into an unknown world, yet to your discovery is never comfortable. I believe fully in sometimes leaving yourself behind, to find yourself in places where some of you may already be. I don’t know who I will be here, but I know it’s for me.
I know why I have been brought here.
It’s to breathe, to try again. To fight, to surrender. To be close, but to be alone. The air here, it fills my lungs in a way that nothing has before. Breathing feels easy. I exhale and the world here is me, it is of my blood. Of my essence.
I vibe with the energy, I don’t feel forces pushing against me.
It scares me. Change is not my strong suit. But it is comforting. You wouldn’t normally think of those two feelings to go together, but they have, and they are, discomfort and comfort all at once. Knowing so strongly yet being so unsure. Being so grounded yet being so unhinged.
It would be hard enough without the cause. I refuse to fade. I refuse to dwindle.
I refuse to become a drizzle.
The storms still flow through me, and nothing can change that.
Have I given off a vibe of being anything other than myself? I am myself entirely, but someone else. They wouldn’t be able to handle me anymore. I wouldn’t be able to handle me anymore. The floodgates have opened and I do not hide the thunder anymore.
I don’t sit in anyone else’s storm. I am my own.
There’s a difference, when a storm is it’s own and when it allows others to control it. To steal it’s vibes and make it it’s own.
Nothing can muddy the water of this. Not anymore.
The wind, you can’t see it but you can feel it.
The change here? You may not be able to see it entirely, but you can feel it.
No one can drown me, I can only be drowned in.