If mortality were an ocean,
avast blanket of blue water

Hypothetically
I'm close to drowning.

My lungs are raw and full of briny,
Legs far past exhaustion.

Swimming endlessly
to nowhere.

Passing those beneath me,
innumerable swallowed by the sea.

Each lap is an accomplishment.
To some, it's easier

I'm swimming through a raging storm,
Waves much stronger than the last.

Perhaps the sea will finally push me under,
I'd welcome the watery grave with peace.