I don't call for help..I stare
at the water, dark and murky; matching my thoughts...
I let my feet sink to the bottom, the pressures of life,
like shackles, I don't struggle.
The icy water touches my torso, the chilly hand,
reminds me of every mistake.
the rope that pulls me down by my neck, has no slack, every regret
I have, wrapped into the million strands that make my emptiness
from the bottom, pulling.
My hands, the last to go, they hold my choices, my desperation,
I give my last fleeting breath, this deep nobody will see my tears.
Share This Poem