Natation

It always started with this concept of underwater;

this feeling of not-quite-drowning,

this feeling of not-quite-floating.

I used to swim everyday.

I rushed in the morning to get there as the titanium scraped across the concrete

miraculous gates to somewhere else-

a way into instead of a way out of.

I stayed until sunset, until what could be categorized as ending but not quite over.

I could hold my breath for the longest,

could feel every square inch of my body against the compound

Hydrogen, Oxygen, Hydrogen, Me

I always won whatever race I swam in.

I wasn’t anything but myself underwater.

Holding my breath was no longer a weakness,

Hiding between bonded molecules wasn’t like behind inched open doors

You can’t hear the yelling underwater.

My parents had three kids in four years.

My parents weren’t pleased by the repercussions of having three kids in four years.

My parents weren’t pleased with each other due to the repercussions of having three kids in four years.

But you can’t hear the fighting underwater.

I’ve heard the reason we pile blankets and comforters over ourselves is to recreate a womb.

We want that warmth, that compression.

I keep windows open during snowstorms so I can rationalize this weight of living,

this pursuit of pressure.

My parents don’t see what I see,
you don't wear goggles in the ocean - the constant thrashing could leave you blind.

But I can feel every square inch of my body frozen inside a block of ice when they open their mouths.

I see their hearts beating outside of their bodies, swimming towards something that’s not-quite-each-other 

trying to tell the other something,

but their ears must be so clogged because no one can listen.

This might be categorized as ending but not quite over.

My mother loves the sun. She loves the heat.

I love the cold rush of purity. 

I love the cool dryness of the shade 

and the feeling of boiling droplets off my skin in the white-hot-heat.

I love not seeing what’s in front of me while I pull myself forward into my own current.

I love how underwater, everything’s muted, everything has nothing to fear.

I want to rationalize holding my breath.

I want something other than fear to pull me under.

I want to submerged outside of myself.