When I was seven,
I was caught up in a sneaker way
while playing on the beach,
but all I remember are bubbles.
There were bubbles
all over the sand,
sea foam
all over the sand,
like the water had all
run away
and left a trail of bubbles
for me to jump on.
I remember jumping on bubbles,
then sea all around me,
then yellow rain boots.
My dad wanted to get me
rain boots
after he pulled me out.
Apparently,
I could have died?
I don't remember that.
I don't remember feeling that
pain, terror, life flashing before my eyes.
I didn't know fear.
But know it now,
to fear the future,
to fear potential pain,
to fear failure,
to fear what's coming,
to fear the night,
to fear fighting for my life.
And I don't think about
jumping on bubbles
anymore.
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