The Current.

I’ve been gone for what feels like an eternity,
tumbling down a ravine of self-pity that has swallowed the nectar of my creativity.
I let the tides of the narrow gore take control of my destination.
Swish swash slosh.
The sound of the waves became my voice of reason telling me to go and die.
I closed my eyes and fell into a trance of deep sleep as the sound,
swish swash slosh,
turned into my lullaby.

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