Tiger

If my life were a lifeboat there would be a tiger on it. (You may have read the novel).

What choice do I have but to make peace with the tiger?

Today I am wondering how to make peace. Today I am afraid that I will never get that tiger back where I want it--angry and hungry enough to protect me rather than turn on me. It's a fantastic dance of give and take and strength and faking strength.

The tiger must weigh 2000 lbs. And I think it's been hitting the juice, because it is agitated and pacing. It really needs some direction from me. Should I let it out? Should I fall asleep and stay that way?

I don't know.

And I'm pretty sure the indecision will be the death of me.

It seems like I should be fighting, or ready for a fight, but I am tired and cold and I really want to give up. Actually, I don't know if I want to give up. I can't remember why I want to be healthy and strong and present. And as the memory of being good to myself slips away, the tiger starts circling.

There's blood in the water.