As Promised..A Poem Dedicated to a Fish

Oliver Although I was afraid to admit it,
That fish was symbolic of my life in more ways than one.
When pressed with change, or met with the ever present future,
He couldn't handle it.
And given one last opportunity to make amends,
Pick up again, and figure out where things were going to go,
He jumped.
One last glorious display, an inviting stretch of energy to finish what he started.
Then he landed, cold, color fading. Flopping breathlessly in the dusty corners of my life.
We both went back to start.
Back to the places we tried to free ourselves from and everyone around us swims, oblivious to our pain.
His scales are starting to rot, he seems to be shedding them like a snake would skin.
Underneath that, a beautiful, beautiful fresh start that he will never live to see.
I tell myself, he’s just a fish and he’s just a fish I eat them every day,
But he’s less of a fish and more of me, and I watch him.
I watch him struggle to stay afloat and I wonder why he’s still alive.
Why he won’t eat, and why he won’t just give up.
Then I remember he’s less of a fish and more of me, and I won’t give up.
I pour countless remedies and medicines in his water but he’s gotta want it too.
I want him to get better, so that I leave this with some metaphoric hope that my life too, will change.
And I see him and wonder what he’s fighting for, if fish had a sense of family, that’s gone. If they had any tangible emotion, any feeling they could reach this fight would have reason. Maybe it’s a survival instinct, but it’s incredible and I can’t remember the last time I fought that hard for anything.
I just watch him breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe, each flap of a gill, knowing only that he is still alive.
Maybe that’s all I need, I need to breathe and breathe with the knowledge that I too, am still alive.