It is a back
And forth
The black waves lap against the boat
If I keep moving

But 

When I sit still in the black waters
The waves thrash
The old wood of the vessel creaks
I look to the sky
And then back to the dark waters 
They hold the shadows of everything that cannot be healed
There is no white savior walking across these storm waters
There is only my magic

And

My magic doesn’t wash it away
It simply makes space 
For the inevitable 
For the possibilities
For the things that resist treatment