Drifting.
I float on top of the water
At the mercy of the current
That takes me in whichever
direction that it pleases.

Rough.
The waters are fierce
As they submerge my face
With each wave that forces
Me into the water
And water into my lungs.

Drowning.
I gasp, but that only worsens the
Burning pain, filling my throat and lungs
And causes the tears to fill my eyes
And the screams to fill my mouth.

Slipping.
I feel myself sink down further into
The darkness that engulfs me like a
Body bag would  a corpse but I know
I am not dead because I still feel the pain.

Realization.
I am not in the sea at all.
There is not water.
I am not drowning.
I  only feel that way.

The only sea I drift through is
The sea of painful thoughts that
I float through everyday.