The Water

The water.
I lay floating on top, looking up at the ceiling of blue surrounding with white peacefully interrupting.
The water, protecting me from the endless deep end of its body, my body  had never been so tense, yet so relaxing enabling me to float upon this water.
The water holds me, like I'm it's newborn baby, cuddling me between its waves and kissing my body with its wetness.
The water.
Slowly capturing, observating, collecting me in its own.
The water.
My friend, my enemy,
The enemy that drowns me, when I'm not looking.
The water, at its deepest end, slowly pours over me.
And over me the blue surrounding becomes night with darkness, and darkness of wetness.
The water.
I float underneath,
To understand how it feels to can't breath,
To understand how it feels to be alone with no help,
To breath with no air, suffocating.
To know the feeling of dying slowly,
To know the feeling of pain swallowing your being so slowly, and slowly,
Slowly, someone saves me from me,
The dreams of loving dreams,
My lover, saves me from me.
When sweet dreams turns into nightmares, failure of me, she saves me.
The water, friend and enemy.
The enemy of believe in things that aren't reality.
My conscience sometimes is haunting.
Believe, the water.
The quilt of dying.
Believe, the water.