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


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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