I rested my head on the crux of his chest, there I heard the tumult. Wave after wave of tempestuous rhythm crashed against his rib cage. He was a vast ocean of torment. An upturn of violent discourse beat against my ear. When had I become his lifeboat, weather-worn and ravaged by the torrents of his unrelenting undertow? My splintered oars had long ago slipped away with what little sanity I had left. Occasionally, logic pooled in the mirrored puddles of my hull. On calm days, before the clouds rolled low and stormy, I viewed reflections of my life before the fray. I glimpsed a steadfast craft able to take on any storm. I remembered myself fleetingly before turning my attention back to him and all the destruction he created. I tried and tried again to steer the course, eventually abandoning the sense I needed to save myself; a tiny lifeboat without a compass. Shallow sacrifices rose up and shattered me. Yet, I continued to take on his mass of crushing weight. Burdensome against my frame, like secrets of the deep that seafarers took to watery graves, the vow of silence between us haunted me. His power spilled over my edges. I needed to navigate these swells whilst still staying afloat. There was no room for defeat in my vessel or my heart. With reckoning, he dragged me down with capsized coercion. Even then, I attempted to patch the leaks left by perforated promises, I saw right through to the inevitable flood. I sank slow. I sank deep. Down. . . Down. . . Down. . . Just his sedimentary fool, I still try in vain to bail his ocean into a paper cup.
About the Poet:
Gina Maria Manchego is a multi-medium artist and poet. She has been penning since childhood, and loves nothing more than painting beautiful scenes with the written word. Gina lives in the wild mountains of Colorado, USA.