Tides Within

There’s an ocean in my chest tonight,

Waves where my heartbeat used to be.

It pulls me under without a sound,

No warning before it’s drowning me.

I try to breathe but the tide moves fast,

Every inhale gets swallowed back.

My thoughts are ships that lost their way,

In a storm I didn’t ask to have.

And I don’t know how to stay

afloat,

When my own mind cuts the rope.

There’s an ocean in my chest,

And I’m just trying to survive its depth.

Some days I float,

some days I sink,

Some days I forget how to think.

But even tides don’t stay the same,

Even storms forget their names.

So I’m learning how to ride the pain— This ocean in

my chest.

Sometimes it comes without a warning sign,

A crashing wave at 3 AM.

My lungs forget what calm should feel like,

Like I’ve been underwater again.

And people say “just breathe it out,” Like it’s that easy to

control. But panic doesn’t knock politely— It breaks right into your soul.

Still, I’m learning not to fight the sea,

But to let it move through me.

Maybe healing isn’t dry land,

Maybe it’s learning how to stand Inside the current without fear,

Knowing I am still here.

The sea inside me isn’t wrong,

It’s just been loud for far too long.

And I don’t need to drown or run— I can be both

storm and sun.

In…

out… Let it pass… (hmmmm) I am not the crash.

There’s an ocean in my chest,

But I’m no longer just its guest.

I’ve learned the rhythm of the tide,

How to survive it,

not hide. Some days I sink,

some days I rise,

But I’m still here beneath the skies.

And even when the waves protest— I am more than my ocean

chest.

The water stays…

But so do I.

(so do I)