Ocean Water

A free-verse poem about coping with stress

Photo by Moe Shammout from Pexels

After work,
I take a few short minutes
to pretend that I don’t exist.

I lie down on my bed,
stare at my popcorn ceiling,
slow my frantic thoughts,
and keep my body completely still.

Nowhere to go.
Nothing to do.
With no agenda,
who am I?

I smile at the thought
and sink into my cotton sheets
like ocean water.

No work.
No rules.
No expectations.

I could wade forever in this
— an ignorant bliss.
But I only have a few more seconds
until my alarm drags me back to the surface.



Nia Simone McLeod

Writer covering whatever piques my interest | she/her | Subscribe to my newsletter: https://ohwrite.substack.com/welcome