i feel like emily

Emily Dickinson: cryptic, dark, lost in loss and alone. She writes:

"Each that we lose takes part of us;

A crescent still abides,

Which like the moon, some turbid night, 

Is summoned by the tides."

Except my poems don't read like that. I just feel lost and scared of death but even more terrified of this feeling of emptiness inside, while I am still alive. 

I love life. There is so much I want to do with mine. But I'm stuck. Nothing appeals. The love and happiness I have in me are on a raft, out to sea, and I'm standing on the shore. Wondering if I have to get in that crazy cold water and swim out to get the damn raft. Probably. Waiting on the beach doesn't feel very good. I don't want to build sandcastles. I want to sing and dance and really really live. Maybe that means swimming but I've got to put on some layers to protect me from the cold. 

It's fucking freezing rough water.

With Eowyn in Cape Breton, 2010