the water is cold

I collect memories like rocks of various shapes and colours along my journey to remind me that the past still exists as a blurry image somewhere, yet there is no longer a path that takes me back there. I slowly start dropping the rocks that are stalling me, weighing me down during my journey, as one step follows the other, making way for new ones in a never-ending cycle. Crystal clear waters lie ahead, calling my name with every drop of sweat making its way down my face and burning my eyes in the meanwhile. Free from my rocks, I slowly make my way along the bay.

The water is cold, but it’s okay.