treading in
being good
but not good enough
being close
but never quite there

paddling through
exercise quality
determining how well i will feed myself
compulsively squeezing
stomach, thighs, arms
knowing i could be more
if i could somehow be less

drowning in
continuous second guessing
and the slow burn of jealousy
that roils in the pit of my stomach
begging for reassurance

i wish i knew how to float