I take a deep breath and my nose and mouth are filled with water.
My body is immobile.
I find myself sinking deeper and deeper.
I can see the sun scattering particles of light through the water.

I never should have gone in the water.
What was supposed to be
a nice swim
turned into water too deep for me to handle.

I find myself struggling to get back to the top
but something keeps dragging me down.
I think I should give up,
be done.

But instead I try one last time
to kick my feet.
The water chills me inside and out.
My clothes weigh heavy on my body.

Wishing I was anywhere but here,
I see the blazing sun
one last time.

I can feel each individual drop of water on my body.
Each drop a heavy burden,
causing me to sink deeper and deeper until all is dark.

The last of my air leaves my chest.

I see others
but they sit on the shore facing the other way.

Finally, I realize that I am done for-
that my fate is to drown in the water
that I chose to swim in.

Looking up one last time,
I inhale another breath of water
and sink to the very bottom of it all.

If I wasn't myself
I would want to be the kid
that people write poems about.

But I am myself.
No one sees me
or hears me
but they read me.

I'm not the kid that they write poems about
because I am the one writing the poem
about you.

You read me
and by 'me' I mean my poems
but they aren't about me
they're about you.

But if you look closely
really really closely
you'll see me,
the writer,
hidden in the poem.

I'm not interesting enough
to have a poem written about me.

But if you want to read about me,
read with your soul
not your eyes or your brain
not even your heart.

No matter what the poem is about,
it's about me
hidden behind the guise
of you.

I am in every poem
that I write
because if I didn't write about myself,
no one would.

She would inhale,
filling her lungs
with potent smoke
and her head
with potent thoughts.

She would exhale
and her face
would do this thing
as if deep down
it knew that the world
was inherently good.

As she exhaled,
her face showed innocence.
Through the cloud of smoke,
her face shone through
looking like the face
of a harmless child.

When she inhaled again,
her aged face would show
worry, pain-
and hopelessness.

But only for a moment
until it was exhaled
into a puff of smoke.