Cesspool

I think of my distant tomorrow,

of where I am going

or the things that I am doing

just to get there

I think I belatedly understand

what the moon does

to the ocean

because I am so attracted

to the thought of being finished

and of being secure

Some benevolent force

pushing me forward

to meet the sands 

of who

and where I will be,

whenever I stop moving

through the thick, impossible jelly

The idea of yearning for a future

used to infuriate me

because it wasn't getting any closer,

only uglier 

and ebbing away

at the sight of the bright,

too bright,

fixture of the impending moon,

intimidating,

even though it was where it had always sat 

However

my upper lip peaked with sweat,

fingers shaking with determination,

I am cresting out of

that thick jelly of my future 

I never thought that I would get this far

But here I am,

coming in for high tide

and petting the little creatures

stuck inside the tide pools

with an encouraging smile

"You'll get there," I whisper,

loud enough

to hear through the jelly

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Emmy, I find your raw yet guarded optimism refreshing for a 22 year old. I’m more than twice your age and remember those frustrations and emotions.

That “jelly” you mention makes life richer and makes for great stories and poems... like this one. I look forward to reading more.