Sea Shanty

I often dream of the sea;
deep and dark.
The glassy surface of it when it's still,
a mirror image of my insides.
The sadness comes in waves
and the bad days are like the tide:
In sometimes, out sometimes.
A feeling that stretches out
as far as the eye can see.

I thought that I could swim here
but there's a heavy chain around my waist.
An anchor made from darkness
and once again I watch the light disappear above me.
A tsunami inside my skull
that throws me against the rocks
but always leaves me undrowned.

A message in a bottle floats ashore:
it tells me to give up.
Less than 5% of the ocean has been explored
what are we afraid of finding?
When we look that deep
something must be waiting to look back.
I wish someone would discover my wreckage at the bottom of the sea.