swimming pools

plunging into submersible bliss. disorientated. my eyes burn, not from the chlorine but from the pressure of my sockets; lids locked tight. i am tupperware. 

building pressure through my skull rising, rising, rising.

silence.

corrugated fingertips prying at glacial shoulder blades desperately wading through still waters. 

the ephemeral urge to scream into the void lacerates wilted lungs, shrivelled from the deprivation of air.

i seem to have misplaced my buoyancy; disillusioned at the fraudulent behaviour of the bubbles escaping assumed fastened lips.

skimming the surface but not quite disturbing the aquatic skin i seek so much comfort in.

how can i float if these weighted burdens keep dragging me down?