No matter how strong my arms and legs
The ocean is deep, the current is strong
I have not reached the point yet
Where acceptance embraces it's totality
My lungs still crave air
I'm not ready to change my mind
I look for a lighthouse, a guide through the tempest
All I see are ghosts
Specters that beckon me to darkness
Phantoms I've known all my life
I've lived with them
I've given and taken perversity from them
Foulness, bad blood, indifference,
Anything to wallow in, common ground
Leagues to sink into, each one for you
It washes the oil from my skin, so I rejoice
It demands that I drop the black mask, so I celebrate
The ocean pulls my weakened legs, done with cramping
Numb and useless as my arms, with slow, calculated tugs
The last drops of mud slither down the glass and I can't help but think
Why the hell did I dive in? Did I jump or was I pushed?
What was I getting into?
I still don't know

The only difference between baptism and a watery grave
Is a hand to pull you up and out