Hydra Gills

Photography by Julia March

Hydra Gills

Guilt

The acidic grit rubbing against your conscience

A feeling created inside yourself by your own judgement

A vicious cycle eating away at your essence biting its green, slimy teeth

Into its own swelling tail.

Anger

At your own glee, your own desires compounding upon themselves

Until there isn’t anything you can do to stop it

The fire of anger drowned and plunged into the depths

A grimy stone sinking you into your own darkness.

Drowning

Struggling against the seaweed, trying desperately to swim away

Pushing rusty anchors, old things that can’t be forgiven,

The ones that keep you chained to your soul.

Adrenaline

That you don’t want, but pushing it down gives it strength

A rush of musty monsters coalescing from the depths

A heady heartbeat pulsing under saltwater

An overwhelming pressure that wants to crush you so you won’t be constricted by the numb ache of two currents-- up and down.

(Light

A feather lifted, a bliss without taint

Another opinion, another universe has called.

You push yourself up with stories,

over the water and onto numb-cold frozen-over ice

You skate away, knowing you will slip again,

But for now you can hide above the monsters of your twisted conscience.)