To the man who thinks I’m drowning…
I am not.
Let me sink to the deepest sea
Reach the pitch black ocean floor
I may run out of breath but
But leave me be
Don’t come to my rescue
Or grab my hands
For, maybe, I like the taste of the
And the touch of the arctic veil
Let me swim back to the surface
With my own hands and feet
Do not rush and breathe life
Back to me
Or lift my weight— drag it
To the shore
For, maybe, these lungs need to remember
How it needs the gulp of air
And the warmth of life again.
© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.
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