Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Drowning

Time never moves slower then when you’re dying on the inside. When the dam breaks and the tears come. I once held their hand in mine. Now their hand holds my heart in a fist and they’ve wrapped the other around my throat.

The only thing keeping me above the waves even as they shove me under. Your waves crash over me until I’m gasping for air. Punishing my lungs with every breath I cannot draw.

Your hand around my throat keeps my head above the water, but still I cannot breathe. The fist around my heart hurts to much to try and take in air.

I listen to your waves and watch for your storms. But you do not do the same for me and your storms so overtake you that you cannot see what they have done to me.

My tears mix with the water and it goes unnoticed as long as I soothe your hurts.  I have a bucket filled with holes to try and keep the water at a safe distance. But the hand around my throat is all that keeps me afloat even as it drowns me.

Author:

Creative writer and amateur photographer.

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