Float

I don't remember my first failure
any more than I remember the first time I saw water.

They look the same.

Transparent and ignorable
until there's enough of it to see how blue it is

And it's easy to swallow in small amounts
But large amounts might swallow you

I drink it daily (whether I want to or not)
though I would prefer the taste of soda,
or of success.

Success looks too much like a flower.
Beautiful and precious and wilting,
tethered to the earth and therefore
unable to rise with the rushing tide
of my mistakes.

I worried, once, for that thing so delicate
and rare that it must be protected
But after watching the water rise for long enough
I now know that success is not the fragile thing doomed to drown
Success is the buoyancy that lets me float
upon my sea of failure