Do not mind me,
just merely drowning in the shallow end.
Scarfing down the water that now encapsulates my lungs,
synthesizing itself with a heavy regret and a lost cause.
The enemy wrapping its cold, damp fingers
tightly around my bruised neck as it transports my
feeble body just above the deep end,
faced up, eyes soaking in the grime of the vanilla sky
that hovers just in range.
I grudgingly breathe in
the last ounce of sanity I can possibly muster
before I surrender myself wholly
to the static glow I see
reverberating off the soiled clouds and browning leaves.
No matter what final efforts...I know I am gone.
Waving goodbye to my routine, star-crossed security,
cinematically fading into the ominous haze that brews
behind me, beneath the water, on tiled floor.
Held captive by a lost love's form of voodoo -
a cursed fate to aqua marine blue -
in a quasi permanent fashion, nevermore.
|"Pool of Tears"|
Reclining nude drawn in charcoal by Skye Lyon. 2012.