Sinking

I am sinking—into darkness,
I cannot—fill my lungs with air.
Deeper—I am going, swallowing my death,
Sinking ever further down—into the depths.
I am cold—my hands turn blue.
My heart is ripping from my chest—with every single breath.
I feel—suffocating silence,
Pounding—in my head,
My arms—feel like lead—I wish myself unsaid.
My struggles—cease—I know no more.

-Rachel Beachy

Comments

Arielle said…
Woman, that's a really depressing poem.

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