I’ve fallen under the surface.
My heart races and my thoughts become certain with water holding me at gunpoint.
I can think clearly.
The water whispers lies into my soul.
I know what is to come.
My eyes dart and lungs plea with me.
The thing about drowning is when you’re underwater you can see who else is there too.
It’s reassuring, comforting, deceiving, being able to see that it’s not only you.
It also seems to bubble up the fight within.
If I’m just a fish in the sea, maybe someone can be saved under here even if it isn’t me.
Maybe in death I can find selflessness.
Maybe I can be someone, if I can save someone other than me.
Now my mind is tired and my decision is stuck like syrup on me.
I push someone up, which sinks me deeper.
And I’ve done my good deed, so now I can slip away peacefully.
Lungs constrict, and eyes tire.
My mind rests and thoughts are of peace.
I float endlessly and water tastes like air to me.
Maybe I’m not drowning, I’ve just always lived underwater.
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