Have you ever felt like you were drowning?
Maybe, you were sitting alone, in a cafeteria full of people
laughing, smiling, eating
But all you could feel were the eyes of judgement
Burning into your back

Maybe you were awake at four in the morning
Praying that peace would find you in the form of a dreamless sleep
So you wouldn't have to relive the memories behind your irises
The ones that make your hands tremble, and your knees weak, and your breathing come in spurts

I feel like I'm drowning.
As if someone cast an anchor overboard and somehow it snagged onto my heart,
Pulling me down to the bottom of the ocean
Because I can't even hear your name without feeling a piece of my chest splinter.

Does it hurt?
The way that you crack a smile when someone else laughs, so nobody will know you've been  spending too much time practicing that facade in front of a mirror
Or that you've been running to the liquor store four times every week because nothing else lulls you to sleep

Does anyone notice?
The way your hands tremble just slightly right before you enter a room full of people, because anxiety has overpowered your own mind.
Or the way your heart stammers when you bump into someone on the street, and it takes you back to when he held you down in the passenger seat, seeking pleasure from your pain.
Or when you run out of things to say because nobody reaches out to you first, you just go silent, hiding behind printed pages in novels where you wish your life resided.

Have you ever felt like you were drowning?
I do- every day.
But I've never set foot in the ocean.