I'm swimming,
wading through in my breath,
a sail ship at the back of my throat,
the sails tickling,
making me boke,
the waves, the waves,
they just keep coming,
dirtying me with their salty grit,
creeping creeping,
into my lungs,
hush,
be quiet,
my little one.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
I'm swimming,
wading through in my breath,
a sail ship at the back of my throat,
the sails tickling,
making me boke,
the waves, the waves,
they just keep coming,
dirtying me with their salty grit,
creeping creeping,
into my lungs,
hush,
be quiet,
my little one.
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