I don't even know how to tread water anymore.
I casually wait for the riptide to grab me by my ankles
**** me in until I'm just marrow. I sit in the passenger's seat and let it all pass
Cascade faults
ritualistic, it's described so often like a taste in my mouth
Metal, sharp, pungent
I retract, let it flow down my throat
Fill my chest with yearning
while someone else holds onto the wheel
Biting my lip at the fantasy of getting out of the car, throwing my shoes behind me and swan diving

I don't even want the end.
I don't fantasize the beauty of complete silence.
I linger on the milliseconds before the crack
The stringing pull
Of a visceral heart attack