The Better of Two Evils

 

"Go with the flow", they all say;

As though that makes things any easier.

The flow is stagnant, or

It jolts from one trajectory to another,

With no final destination in sight.

At least, not a fixed one.

I can't know where I'm going if the river

Takes me places it hasn't even visited itself.

Am I to be blamed for nature's imbalance?

How can I answer for forces beyond my comprehension?

It hurts. It hurts so damn much.

Every unexpected wave throws me into the rocks,

Their rough edges cutting deep into my pale skin,

Laying claim to more drops of blood than I care to lose.

Mercilessly, I'm shoved from one side to another, 

And yet, the river continues to flow

Relentlessly, no anticipated stillness,

Only impending impact.

My tears become one with the saltless water,

Their betrayal not altogether unexpected.

They blend in seamlessly with the turbulent pool,

And no sooner than they have torn themselves away from me

Do they become entirely unrecognisable

To their exhausted originators.

I am summoned to shore,

To the promise of safety

That time and time again

Has treacherously rendered me helpless.

I would much rather brave the waves.

Confused as they are,

They have always been honest about what they bring.

And yet,

That sweet sight of green stillness

Beckons silently, ever so gently.

It almost makes me forget

How easy it is to be engulfed

By dead weeds.

I am promised peace

And am met with more pain

Than the jagged rocks could ever bring me.

If those are my only two options,

My choice could not be easier.

Still, I have no choice but to emerge from the river

And find my place amongst the weeds.