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Alvira Perdita Jan 2020
above the ceiling is lit with bright lights that surround me,
the crowds around are gathered together, talking in
excited tones that pass my ears without reaching me.

can they not see that i am drowning?
i stand in the centre of the room, screaming for help
but they can't hear me, they don't notice or they don't care

my lungs are imploding, i can feel the weight crushing
every inch of my insides. nobody has looked at me yet.
i don't believe that they can't see me, it's impossible.

he extends a hand, holding it casually as though i'm not flooded
he says "just breathe, everything will be okay."
he doesn't understand that if i take a breathe, i will drown

i close my eyes, i can hear them now
"everything will be okay" they're repeating to me
i can read in their faces that they don't understand why i don't just breathe

i'm trying to breathe but it's become impossible and
all i can do is ask for death
but i'm not that lucky
since dad died everyone is giving me space, and i don't think it's what i need and i'm honestly starting to forget what it feels like to want to be alive and these days all i can do is just wish that it will all end. i don't want this life any more, i don't want this pain and i don't want to be alone anymore.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Miracle on 34th Street.
So good, she was terrifying.
Unable to cry on cue,
Mother tore a butterfly to pieces,
And she sobbed and sobbed.

Compartmentalized,
Body and spirit broken
By the hours at
Chateau Marmont.

From sweetness
To restlessness.
From academic nods
To drinking in the scenery.
From charmed head shots
To one too many dry martinis.

Gorgeous and gloomy,
"She clings to things with her eyes,"
And naturally was committed.
Her orchestra played
A signature tune:
Splendor in the Grass.

Picture is in the tank
And so is the marriage.
Again.
Furlough is on the brink
And so is the divorce.
Again.

Charting course,
Casting reels,
Dreaming where the boats vanish,
Drowning in a paradox of watercolors.

Who pushed you over the side,
Russian doll?
Wood drowned off Catalina Island on November 29, 1981, at age 43. The events surrounding her death have been explained by conflicting witness statements, prompting the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department under the instruction of the coroner's office to list her cause of death as "drowning and other undetermined factors" in 2012. In 2018, the man she had been married to was named a person of interest in the ongoing investigation into her death.
Eitten S Jan 2020
I thought I was drowning in your love
but it turns out
I was drowning in our fears
our fears of not being accepted
we tried to accept each other
we were clinging to each other like the other was our lifeboat
but neither of us were kicking to keep us afloat
irsorai Jan 2020
Attention, everyone attention!
When I stopped talking,
I thought I heard you think
But only silence followed.

You're drowning me,
But I'm gonna take you with me!
Copyright © irsorai
18/01/2020 - 6:43am
tryhard Jan 2020
my regrets are as vast as the ocean
as far as the eyes can see
as deep as the undiscovered dark
i have been drowning in them lately
and it has rained as i tried to swim ashore
i cannot find safe harbor
no island in sight
they told me the lighthouse was working
but here underwater
all i see is darkness
lately i've been wondering
why i wrecked my own ship
i guess i will have to die here
in a sea of monsters and storms
in an ocean of my own misery
Ingram Jan 2020
As a child growing,
time was my loyal companion,
Holidays coming in the perfect moment
Annual Birthdays never failing
Weekends always showing up.
But.
As an adult growing,
time has become an antagonistic companion
Never allowing me
To recover from
The past or
The present.
now there is another year gone
that includes
moments in which
I was drowning in mistakes
and seconds in which
I was floating in euphoria.
I want time to stop
For the ability to process
the gulps of bitter water
or sweet sensation of hovering in joy
as they happen,
Not when the ball drops
and we all scream,
For time has not ceased,
to show the world,
to show us,
to show me,
who is in charge.
Just Ty Dec 2019
I am in a mental state where I feel as if I am constantly drowning.
My life doesn’t seem to be going straight but constantly rounding
In circles with problems that continue to keep happening
It’s like my guardian angle is just sitting there pointing and laughing
I can’t catch a break for it’s just constant destruction
Demolition day needs to be over and my goals no longer under construction
Every time I move forward I am thrown back five steps back
I don’t know where to go from here all I know is  I’m not ready for what’s next
Good, bad, or indifferent it doesn’t really matter
For whatever happens next I will watch it be shattered
My life is a nightmare that I can’t wake up from
this will continue to be my life for the years to come
Sh Dec 2019
Give me something to drown into.

A branch to let go as I fall into the sweet sugary river,
or an ill advised drink to take as medicine.

A way to focus solely on my breath and nothing else,
an escape from the thoughts that plague my restless mind.

Let me watch the bubbles forming from my mouth, floating up as I go down.
Black space to remind me of peace among the chaos.

Let me forget all the reasons I fell,
the anxiety and gloom that never left my bones.

Let them drift away as numbness take their place.
elle Dec 2019
I'm in the middle of this ocean
which seems infinitely extending.
I try to swim
even though I don't know how to,
but all I ever see is water,
and more water
surrounding me.

I'm stuck in this cycle
of trying to swim all day
only to be tossed by the waves at night,
back to square one.
It just starts all over again.

Sometimes, I think, maybe it isn't worth it
to hope that the waters will be calm
until I reach the shore.
But I always, always end up hoping,
or maybe I'm not hoping,
maybe I'm just fooling myself.

I drown sometimes,
but I still, somehow, manage to breathe again.
My lungs hurt from trying to go for air sometimes.
I guess I don't have much of a choice.
So I breathe.
And swim.
And swim some more.

Sometimes, I swim
not to reach the shore
but to go away
from the place
where this all started — the middle.
I hate being in the middle of the waters.
It doesn't feel safe.

I am lost.
I swim but I don't really know the way to the shore.

I'm not even sure if the shore even exists, anyway.
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