No Disney Mermaids, Here No Disney mermaids, here, in a predawn net of dreams that won't let me go. But that's not quite true. I hold onto them, too, over reality because life is the nightmare that's real. And so I drown, at long last, in tangled water, choosing the insanity, where water becomes a hand. And I hold onto it, too, because I'm also scared to drown, even in this wonder of dreams. We're not Disney mermaids; not svelte, with lovely voices, and it's suddenly fine that we are our real selves. The ones battered by storms and rocks, that have many scars, and that we drown together in this space between worlds. Because that is the love we need. A something real one. A strong one. But our waking thoughts try to rip us apart. I feel your hand in mine, still, and I don't let go, but it's hard to make the tea that will bring me back to the world I hate. But it's that world that brings me your message in a drowning bottle. And I'm glad I haven't let go.