Above
Epiphany, cont.
Taili Sherwood-Kong, 11
amidst the deep green, i miss you— you? maybe you is meant to spell the words of me, but how can i miss me? i am me for eternity, past heaven and hell into the ocean of souls. no matter the resentment or love i hold for this soul, i am me forever and ever and that should terrify me, but who am i to go against fate? me is not a tangible thing i can miss, i think to myself. as coral begins to sprout from my ears and anemone from my breasts, the fish spill from my lungs and from my teeth. I watch as the bubbles rise as i thrash and cry, but within my heart, i feel calm; detached, away from the pain— i am away from you and your sea, and somehow, i do not feel loneliness either. green turns my pupils and red turns my heart as i am set ablaze by the water, my own hands no longer grappling for a lost cause. my mind plays tricks on me, but i can swear that even through the pain, i feel your fingertips along my feet, whispers of flushed atrocities flitting to my bones. I ignore you-you? or the image of you in my mind that has become blurry with fright. my body twists under the ebony curtain and i watch the moon under the water, murky waves and pearly stars appearing a blur under the gaze of the night. i can feel under cracked lips that i smile, and i feel warmth seeping through my fingertips and cheeks. i choke, but i can breathe. my lungs collapse, yet i am free of pain. was i dying? or did i find fulfillment in losing you? i think, slowly, dreadfully— i think i have found what i have been missing and it tastes of dead fish and salty sea. bitter leaves its mark on my tongue but i smile. why? i am away from your cold warmth and bunnies that nibble at my heart, but i am smiling still. persistently, stubbornly, i smile still. i think i am missing an epiphany of me, and not the epiphany of you.
9
