Wallowing in the same old self pity I promised I locked away
The same rough language from back then
flowing like the torrential thoughts
I used to swear that somewhere under all this water
I would find myself
I'd get a find every so often
a new suit I could wear for a while before it no longer fit
maybe it was the way it dried
maybe it was because it just wasn't me
I stopped looking for anything in the water
Even if I were to exist in those murky depths
I don't think I would ever find anything than some old suit to try on