Paddling through images on my phone-- they are the only life boat in sight a little floating canoe in the middle of a mighty ocean. The tide is turning, trying to advert some ugly storm that's rising up; debris fills the whirl pool as it slowly tempts to drag my anchor in.
Smudges appear on the glowing screen of my preoccupation, as the teary drops blotch out the imagery I cling onto. Only gaining more wind as it descends to sink this dinky ship.
Cascades of waves streamline their way through my finger tips, settling into the motion, the shambles of the scooter rip away from me Trembling as the mind wanders from surface to drowning.
Face down in a public space, without any buoy to hold onto These rampant waves will water-board the mind.
The campaign to survive, sunk with final life boat As the perfect storm was able, to fatally take my breath away.
People that are dealing with things always tend to distract themselves from dealing with those things. So they build and build and then one day they become the thing to end what life those people ever had.