water seeped through invisible cracks on the ceiling,
sprung from tiles of the floor and
trickled down in serpentine paths from the walls.
I go out that day but no one notices.
It's gradual and slow, I try to sleep it off
but when I wake the next morning I am
waist deep inside the water.
I can only feel the chill of it, the ripples as I move
around attempting to ignore it.
It feels like air.
I'm too afraid to go out and seem different to people
around me.

Days pass, I wonder if I'm hallucinating,
what's wrong with me? perches in my head.

I spent all day attempting to identify the source;
under the bed, in the cracks of my mirror,
inside my pillow but nothing.
I sit in the middle of my living room,
in the middle of the flood,
in the middle of the night,
slowly being submerge in this confusion.

I'm drowning underneath this weight as
people walk on by unaffected by this change.
I've become numb,
sleep and wake to this abysmal blue.
There's no point in anything I do.
It's insidious, entering my dreams as I
prematurely awake to another day under the water.