Floating, I Must; Eventually I Will.

Like a fish plucked from the ocean tossed into the foreign stream, is how it feels. Things were rolling down the river, of love.

Sometimes a waterfall would approach unexpectedly; it was all jumbled up.

The feelings I had inside.

Convincing myself they wouldn't last, the currents calmed. 

Maybe to the ocean for you after it is soothed.

To the lazy river for me. 

Without enough water to ease myself down.

Treading I must, still with questions of how it came to be.

Reality is what I know now, not how it used to seem. 

Soon, but not soon enough the river will flood.

I will float to stay alive. 

Still with the question.