After the Gulf of Mexico.

I'd love to not seem like the needy type, but I just really am. 

I don't need much though. 

Some bandages to fix the mistakes I still make. 

Pipe cleaners to scrub the gray matter that refuses to rest. 

A simple pillow to take your place. 

Any form of music so as to not leave me completely alone in my thoughts. 

They're toxic and my mind becomes a war zone only when I am alone with it. 

My mind is the beast, she tries to stay simple in her demands,

yet constantly feels as though the simple is too much.

She rids herself of the basic needs that she should ask for,

and ponders why she must hurt so much. 

Limping through the woods into deep, dark pastures unknown. 

Perhaps they will be better than the ones of old.

Maybe the oil spill she's just passed has

seeped into her core too deep.

She may collapse just as she is. 

Take a rest.

But not here. 

Push through the spill and find something beneath it. 

Find a frozen pond somewhere not so nice, 

take a sturdy twig and watch the cold you've cloaked yourself in dissipate amongst you.

Yes, the water is you.

Flowing, waiting to be interrupted.

Emmerse yourself into the fish that flee. 

Get so wrapped into what is truly you,

that the oil washes off of you and shows as mere bubbles as you no longer mesh into it. 

Stay there for a while. 

It is okay to shed your tears here.

They will not be seen as much as they need to be felt.

But know that indeed, they do need to be felt. 

On your way here, you let all of the oil into you.

You felt the pain as your lungs cried out their raspy respiring. 

It's important to feel all of this, 

so that you can finally release it. 

This was not meant to be the only part of you left after the wreck.

You were meant to thrive, build yourself into a tower from the sea upward. 

So you've reached this place. 

Unsure if this is the place.

The place that you are meant to reside in.

This is you. 

And you are so much more than a simple destination. 

You are the whole river that you feel amongst you.
For now, 

you may drown in it. 

For as long as you need, 

you may take solace in this oasis, for it is yours, as it always will be.

I hope you swim far so that your wounds may be clean,

and you may someday emmerge from this, 

and use the bandages to heal those wounds. 

You no longer need the pillow to comfort you. 

And you will no longer need the pipe cleaners,

because for a sheer second, 

you are pure as a single drop of water. 

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.