The waves tower over my bravery. Dark. Insatiable. Unyielding. They crash against me, attempting to remind me that I’m insignificant, I’m delicate, I’m sinking. Anxiety is never silent. It doesn’t knock gently. It barges in, yelling you can’t, you won’t, you’ll drown, and for a brief moment, I nearly accept it. The sky splits open. Lightning scrawls my fears across the heavens. The sea tugs at my legs, my arms, my chest. Each wave poses a question, every current casts a doubt. And then… something grazes my skin. Something drifts. Something refuses to submerge. Hope. It doesn’t yell. It doesn’t battle the storm on my behalf. It simply whispers: Kick. Breathe. Hold on. You are not done yet. I seize it. I hold on tight. I sense it drawing me upward, even as the water tries to pull me down. The waves crash. The wind howls. But I am progressing. I am ascending. I am present. Because hope is tenacious. Hope is vocal when the world is silent. Hope is the life vest that won’t let go, even when my arms tremble, even when my lungs ache. I am not the vessel breaking apart. I am the swimmer who perseveres. I am the heartbeat that won’t cease. I am the ascent after the descent. The ocean roars, the storm wails, the sky splits open… But I? I float. I struggle. I rise. If you'd like to see the video of my spoken word please click this link. https://youtube.com/shorts/aEUf1ul3NoY?si=ZA9hnjAWMmcRR75L