Bitter waves lap at my feet
Whilst the tempest tugs at my hair
Pleading me to step forward
Leading me into the depths
That hold me captive
Left to scratch my way out
My last attempt at anything
Why didn't I expect to fail?
Finally, you come to see
How I am coping
But silence is your only reply.
You're too late.
l.v.s
I finally managed to write the third part! I used sections from my other poems to make this one. I found an aspect of another poem which relates to my own: "to and from frozen places with the shivering in between, hoping for a bit of warmth to take the edge off." - Tyler Knott Gregson