swim.

i hear them inside the gay room, their laughing and joking sounding like a sweet summer rain where the sun still shines and a rainbow is rumored to be making an appearance. they all chuckle and chortle in charismatic shades of ochre and umber, warm and soft yet deep and strong. this camaraderie between them fills my stomach with the oozing black ink of jealousy and loneliness.

i gaze longingly at the door that leads into a cozy, colorful space of acceptance and support, but i can’t bring myself to cross the threshold. i still believe that i do not belong inside this space. i have not yet become me and i am still buried beneath a stinking, festering pile of expectations that reek like dirty laundry and misogyny.

tender, hopeful purples patter on the black inky surface to remind me that all is not lost. i just need to come up for air. i reach and stretch, push and pull, and in groaning grays and brave blues, i rise from the depths of the black sea slowly, cautiously, but continuously- there is no stopping me now. i kiss the surface of the sea and breathe deeply, a golden sienna sunrise lifting its soft glowing head to meet this new me.

the others on the shore are still far away, there is still a long way to swim, but maybe this time i will be ready to cross the threshold. i just have to keep swimming.