When there's a break in the storm, waves falling back, gasping for breath...
Relief to float.
Aching muscles and burning lungs.
It's here that we cry.
When we're not fighting to survive, desperate and cold...
Relief from our demons.
Limp and useless.
Damn. All we can do is cry.
The kind of crying that strips you of strength and purpose.
The kind of crying that drips with exhaustion and the realization that you thought you were going to die.
That kind of crying.
Maybe rescue is coming.
Maybe we'll just float for a while.
Maybe we'll make it out alive.
No matter what, its relief.
If life is really just moments thrown together, I'll sink into this particular moment and let it drench me.
I'll throw myself over the remains of this shipwreck and shiver in the warmth.
Whatever comes next,
right now... this second ... it's rest.
I'll take it.