I have reoccurring drowning dreams which
turn oxygen into smithereens
Wherever I seem to be
I cannot breathe
What to everyone else is leisurely lust
Is to me a desert of dust
The tide only hides, I can't see the sea
I try to stay afloat but the glass is always empty
Sailing is a Hopper painting
I can only hear when it's raining
People tell me the could only wish
Of seeing glimmering flying fish
But what seems to them nature's secret kiss
Is not.
It's a terrifying black ceaseless abyss
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 5:11 PM UTC
I have reoccurring drowning dreams which
turn oxygen into smithereens
Wherever I seem to be
I cannot breathe
What to everyone else is leisurely lust
Is to me a desert of dust
The tide only hides, I can't see the sea
I try to stay afloat but the glass is always empty
Sailing is a Hopper painting
I can only hear when it's raining
People tell me the could only wish
Of seeing glimmering flying fish
But what seems to them nature's secret kiss
Is not.
It's a terrifying black ceaseless abyss
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