I want to rip out my vocal chords and
bathe in the words that spill
out. I’ve sunk into the deep, never
even having the opportunity to float.
Water rushes in my ears when I’m
alone, little white lies, red lies, black
lies pour through me. I’m a waterfall,
a treacherous torrent, buyer beware.
I should have kissed him longer.
His name was Curiosity and trust me,
my destruction doused him, and
now I wrap it around me in warning.
My mother barely blinked when I said
personality disorder. She never knew
I was underwater despite my inborn
ability to swim, truly a trait from her.
I was born in the depths and have
been holding my breath ever since.
I’m watered down in sad desperation
but here I remain all the same.
I need to stop drowning,
I need an excuse to swim.