Push off from the bottom, flailing towards the top.
Air bubbles around you eloquently pop.
Fluid covers your body, feet are weighted down, swimming with your shoes on is a good way to drown.
You see us from down there don't you?
Our faces turned and distorted from the new view of reality, refracted light revealing the truth.
When you reach the surface will you believe what you see?
Swimming with your shoes on makes it easy to flee.
You finally make it to the rocky bank where your face lay cold.
Your breath is shallow, just as where you lay, and your heart is deep, but dark as the end of day.
You look up to see a smiling face reaching to help.
You knock it away and steady yourself.
The smile surrenders as you dry off.
You squish with each step.
Swimming with your shoes on leaves your feet pruned and unkempt.
And now you're alone, with everyone around.
you take your shoes off and feel the damp ground.
Perception of time slowly sinks in.
You are not living but alive, not pale but rosy red skin.
feeling flood in, but are they welcome yet?
You cope with the pain, and curse the sight of joy.
Which one is harder, swimming with your shoes on or being their toy?