dive

Some days I am unsure of whether I am made of flesh and blood, for I was always told that it was wrong to feel, and even more wrong to cry.

As his voice and hand was raised, my eyes descended toward the ground, arms glued tightly to my body hoping I would shrink small enough to disappear.  My eyes began to blur as my mind felt oddly at peace, hearing only muffled sounds like the gentle ringing of metal underwater… and the pain was gone.

I observed myself from a distance, and curiously, I felt nothing for this small child trying so hard to hold back her tears. She smiled, after all, on days when she was told to… and that was good enough for anybody.

These days, when voices thunder in my mind, and barbed fingers brush against my skin, I am brought again back to this place. And though I have grown, I still see the small child with sun-kissed cheeks staring toward her father's feet in silence.

In time, my lungs begin to swell and I return reluctantly to the surface gasping for air, desperate to stay afloat. And though I am breathing, there is still a lingering ache in my chest…