It use to be the color of the sea
At the surface, it was light as could be
Calm, like the sky, the sweetest high.
Did it make me see or did it make me believe, the difference is so little it's hard to concede its existence without a little futile resistance. Go deeper, go darker, more intense, feels a little starker. This is the middle, where the cat plays the fiddle. It looks like velvet but feels of familiar cotton. Smells just comfortably rotten. You've almost forgotten the color of the sky... Was that really the sweetest high? Here you can't even feel the time go by. It does however, have quite an annoying why It's festers and pesters occasionally but I cage it with my in sane ity. Pulse drops, blood stops. What happened? I was coming up for air and .... I got pulled deeper into its lair. You look around for he who dare make you victim, with boiling anger the beast gets sicker. You want to hear the heart stopper? The jaw dropper? There is no monster. You weren't pulled in, you fell in. You were blind this entire time, why is reality so unkind? Days turn into years, fear forgets those tears. So unsettled, living a lie, the blackest of kettles. You are at the bottom of the ocean, drank Ursulas  potions, thought it was wine ? Now look what you've left behind. The fruit of life has become a rind. Now what? Will you hold onto your breathe and swim to the top, or is this where it stops ?