What is Catharsis?

Did you spend years rubbing the dead skin off your palms

So your flesh looked shiny and new?

Rinsed away decades of debris

So people could only see what’s pure?

You needed to cleanse yourself before you had any relief.

But maybe the baptism didn’t lead to purification.

And no one claps now when you’re waist deep in water.

Sometimes the feelings are too strong, aren’t they?

In your dreams you escape.

But then you’re at the docks.

There’s a child untying the ships,

expecting them to float away on the water,

barely scraping the surface.

The child frees them from the wood,

waiting for lightness of their release.

But the ships sink.

Pulled by water.

Pulled by weight.

But you have to remember its only dream.

Because one day your boat will fly,

Turn into an plane that’s held by clouds,

Despite the baggage.