Poetry
In the Middle of the
Crash
Erica
I
didn't wait for the water to calm
I don’t wait for the waves to stop crashing
I’m writing with a shaking hand
I’m writing covered with salt and sand
Every wave is a splinter
Every breath is glass
I’m not past the winter
I’m inside the ocean blast
I let the wave break over me,
Let it burn behind my eyes.
I’ll turn the hurt into a melody,
I’ll turn the flood into a sky
If I can’t stop the falling
I’ll make the falling into art
I’ll carve the raw and terrible ache
Into a beating heart
Not after the lesson, not in the light,
Not the "someday I’ll be fine"
Just the 3 a.m. that won’t stop talking,
Just your ghost between the lines
This is not the moment of closure
This is not the moment of peace.
This is the moment
I refuse to release
And so now I choose to make it speak
While the ocean wave is still crashing,
I am still here
Writing it down
Making it clear
Erica © 2026. Used
with the permission of the author.
Poetry
