Art

I'm not good at writing. My mind is too jumbled and I can't find a way to put anything on paper. There is a storm in my head. When I try to write, the rain drips all over smearing my words. The wind tears at the paper and the lightning singes the folds. It's a mess. I can't think anymore. I sit for hours in a daze. My body feels heavy. I had my heart broken yesterday. I say I'm over it, but I'm not.

I sink into water. Stress and fatigue wears me down. The coral at the bottom scratches at my back. The water around me acquires a red tint. I'm drowning. I can't breathe. My hands are flailing. I need to grab onto something. Fish swim by and dodge my grasps. The only thing there is water, it flows through my fingers. I can't breathe. Seaweed wraps around my neck. I can't tear it off. Nobody will rescue me. The world is going black. I'm close.