still under

drowning gets easier the more You practice

 

there’s an incredible high the lower You go

until You dash against the rocks

and lose what little wind You’ve got left

 

there are life preservers

sure

little pellets You can swallow

to moderate Your descent

keep You floating when Your arms get tired

 

but treading water only gets You so far

and attracts old memories

with teeth like sawblades

 

they gnaw and they gnash

blood pouring from the thrashing

a feeding frenzy of things best kept hidden

 

they leave You eyeing that shotgun in the corner

a quick click and they’ll scatter

splatter across the wall behind Your head

a mosaic of should-haves and could-haves and would-haves

 

but the what-ifs remain

whispering in Your ear

the promise of a better tomorrow

or hour

or minute

 

and it’s enough to make You breach

gasping for air

one more time

Hear it on SoundCloud

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