Dawn Loves Buttercups

I feel the sand between my toes damp, cold, gritty and sharp as I walk towards the foam lying upon the sand.  The waves mesmerising me, calling me forth to take one step and then another.  Cold and afraid I walk towards my destiny.  I am alone knowing that I am drawn to them just as the moon pulls the water in the tides. Each step into the unknown fills me with fear as the cold water laps against my dress.  The shock of the rising water squeezes my heart as if there were a band around it. My dress feels heavy around my ankles as the water rises with every step I take until my shoulders are completely covered.  The waves are bigger now, and stronger as they crash over my head.  Taking with them all feeling except for numbness. 

I stand on the shore watching as I give myself up to the sea’s power and allow the brine to leave me floating to the surface alone and lifeless.

And as I watch I know this is detachment.   It comes with overwhelming sadness.  Letting go the memories, the feelings.  And when you release them, where do they go.  Do they float away, no, they only hover before your eyes as they entice you to reach out and hold them close once more. You become the observer once again until sometimes at night, alone, of their own accord they climb within.  To hurt or to comfort?  Who knows