The water in the pool.
Ripples at the bottom.
To feel the strong tug.
The knees go weak.
To take a step back.
The heart beat fast.
Of legs kicking.
And hands trashing.
Water, water, water.
I am underwater.
Suffocating. Drowning.
I am four-years-old.
Left alone for a minute.
Bathtub filling with water.
The toy just out of reach.
Almost a watery grave.
A memory is triggered.
The nightmare surfaces.
So too, the phobia.
But fear is under control.
There’s no fear of the ocean.
I love the crashing waves.
As for bathtubs and pools,
The child inside remembers
By C.E. Pereira
(18-8-2019)
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