Tidal waves of hormones,
a death sentence.
all tossed upside-down like so much krill in this sea.
I ride out one wave.
Sit in the trough of another.
Catch my breath just in time to suck it in for the next one.
I can't seem to get to the crest.
Feeling small and tired of paddling.
Not even sure which end is up.
I would like to enjoy the ride,
swirling in whorls with the sand that makes such pretty patterns.
Instead I just fight to find the spot where the waves die down.