I am drowning.
I have no air. The time to breath or think or feel escapes me as I fall in and out of the rapids of my life. I slip out of the water only long enough to glaze on a smile and hiccup a laugh so that I can return to the water undisturbed. If I could just fall down long enough maybe I would worry so much about the air.
The heat is always there. It is an existential crisis waiting to erupt. Who what when where why is life? When each hour presses harder and harder on my lungs I can feel the ribs of my morals cracking. I fake tears to feel the warmth on my face; these are by far the most innocuous of my lies. These to You are only the seepage from overflowing dishonesty infecting the valley of my faintly beating heart.
I am the fuel. Lying. Waiting.
Come at me life. I've fought you down every day since before I was born. Maybe it's your turn.
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