You fell down the stairs and slid slowly into that yellow-smelling pit,
Its murky clouds slowly caressed your shivering skin,
Making you so cold that you thought you were warm, too hot
Until you tried to strip all your clothes off to stop the sweating.
You said it reminded you of the sea,
How it was always there, rocking you to sleep even when you thought your fiery thoughts would never let you rest.
And even though those clouds always followed you, at least they kept you from getting sunburned,
and they would talk to you when you couldn’t even talk to yourself.
When your veins screamed and mocked you, you wanted to pluck at them like violin strings,
But they were off-key so you just pulled, pulled, pulled them out.

It was easy, you said.
So I started closing my eyes every time I walked down the stairs.