You swear this water's still, and it's quiet, inky blackness is all around us,
Lacing itself with the thick cotton fog that makes my hair stick wetly to my skin and
You must be lying because my world is swaying
Back and forth in an all too predictable fashion and the noise, oh god the noise is mixing ,
It's mixing and swirling with those scattered fuzzy yellow lights on the horizon and
I feel sick to my stomach with the smell of rain and ocean salt soaked wood choking my lungs
You're speaking, saying something nonsensical and stupid and it feels like
You're screaming and my ears are ringing, and I beg internally for you to just
Bite your tongue because my skin is clammy and the tremors are making their way
From my skin into my veins and into my heart which is aching for the solidity of dry land
And you're still muttering about things that never matter and I can't tell the difference
Between the humidity and the sheen of sweat gracing my features
So I lean on the railing, where salt kisses my lips and water licks at my fingers
And what I wouldn't give to just throw myself over board into that
Thick, muddled water that's pleading to swallow me whole
It's toxic clutches that desire my mind in exchange for silence
But your fingers grasp my arm and I fall to my knees,
Dry heaves wracking my frame and I curse your name for eternity
My breathing feels scattered and my chest is burning
And the air is cold and wet to mock me as my internal thermometer
Goes haywire and sets its own course and my eyes feel glassy
Because my vision is milky and everything's swirling
And I lay myself down on the deck, with the fizz of foam
Grasping my hair and its white noise lulling me to a fitful sleep