sinking.
[ II ]
my arms aren't fighting anymore,
my legs aren't kicking anymore,
i'm sinking.
again.
i'm seeing you again,
the deep dark daunting hole,
the constant hateful reminder,
that i will never be out of here.
the sudden intrusive thought,
of how slitting my wrist would get me out of here,
or at the very least,
make me feel better.
i'm sinking,
after convincing people that life's great,
life's joyful,
there's so many things for us to look forward to.
i'm sinking,
after telling people i'm recovering well,
i'm able to feel things again,
i genuinely had a laugh.
funny thing is,
i know how to swim.
yet,
why aren't i?