(Poem) An Underwater Meet and Greet

Floating around, staring at nothing,
I sit on a coral with nothing to do.
What is this nothing I’m staring at now?
The eyes, the moon, the food, the sky?

All around me are fish.
Crowding me like people,
I’m covered.
I’m also a fish—a fish like all else.
But I stick out more so
like thick red in deep blue.

They talk, they swim, they laugh, they joke
as I fall down deep into shadows.
Someone please talk to me.
Someone please hear me.
You eye me like you know me,
but why are you not near me?

Do you feel this tension? This painful unease?
I’m drowning in water that should be safe for my gills.
But where is the oxygen? Where are my legs?
Where is the air that’s not supposed to be there?

Swim, swim, swim. Swim
like your life depends on it.
Find a group, find some fish, find a gap
to fill.
No, nevermind. It’s really no use.
I can’t break through
this solid of scales.

Lonely and tired, feeling left out,
how do I join
this vibrance of fish?