the skies have eyes
and i’ve got paranoia,
i feel this sinking vibe
just like i’m in water.

no matter what i try
i’ve still got eyes for you,
and in my lies
i’m slowly sinking towards you.

I am slowly sinking
Deep and deeper
Into a ocean of thoughts
And you stand at the surface
And watch me drown.

Fate is but a curious pattern of twists
An ode to the memories you'd rather forget
We are two halves
Two parts of a whole
Chaos ensues when our union is full
Modern day ecosystems are meaningless
We're a draconian species destined to go extinct
Bound by the theories of renaissance
We grab all we can and do whatever we want
Primitive and limited, foresight is prohibited
A far cry from the eyes of Egyptian pyramids
Here comes a blight that weathers no fight
Everyone going in different directions
Like sinking ships that pass in the night
No politicians plan beyond the next generation
Just until the extent of their own destination
The cupboard runs bare
The well has dried up
Millionaires groom their heirs
The muck has run amok
But the maiden was fair
Now we're all sitting ducks
The hourglass fills up at the bottom
Government bodies are callous masses of atoms

this body will never know
that the sea surface
could also be  gentle and kind.
it will only know
the sea's hunger for
things it could claim.
but then again,maybe,
this body was not built
for such gentleness and kindness.
this body was made to sink.
it knows that sunken cities
dont kiss the ocean floor
in a haste.
it knows because
it has been doing it
for years,
- slow,passionate.
all those towering dreams
it spent on building
some unpaved asphalt roads,
some rooms full of strangers,
some quiet places,
some homes made with strength,
some little cosmos patches.
All drowning and sinking.
Just because
i was too afraid to swim.


//but maybe atlantis is a home for lost,hopeless people like me.

First-class lipstick,
like satin,
gently marking into history
sign-offs and signatures,
transcending boundaries
between land and ocean.

Nothing unwritten;
everything perfected
in the sweet subtlety
of marking names
and millions of ways
to say the same sentiment,
sealed up below the deck.

Traversing the sea,
unread letters wait
in the salt and the sediment,
that will soon wash over them;
the timelessness of tragedy –
of waters that lap
over delicate bodies on beachline shores.

These same elements,
clinging to life
within seawater-stained envelopes
find themselves
just a little too much,
almost a second out of time
with the world outside the ocean.

Now, timelessness has moved on,
and many ships have fallen since,
but there remains
a pocket of air,
huddled in the North Atlantic,
where love letters still muse
with writers’ delicate bones
and the sweet serenade of saltwater.

Ship’s tipping,
children crying,
water lapping
against my feet -
summer-side beach shores
flashing Polaroids
through clasped hands
in false prayer.

You,
atop the bank
rough hands; calloused
grabbing the rail
as you hang onto the upper hand.

No longer horizontal,
ripped apart from the domestic bed,
your chants to God
beg Him to take my life,
and spare yours –

It’s easier to be the underdog
when everyone else is falling, too;
I am the water,
I wait to lap you up;
please, I ask,
fall onto me
and let me love you to death.

In short, sink.
In shorter, drown.

After sinking deep into darkness, a glimpse of hope has gently whisked me away to a magnificent world of beauty!

Hussein Dekmak

Living in a space station
the bottom faces Earth
life is lonely
hovering in the abyss.
Mentality heavy
feet get heavier as the mind sinks
until dying star feet become too heavy.

Every step taken
pushes the station towards Earth
intense fear                    sinking feeling.
Stay still                      don’t move
nothing stops the momentum of heavy feet
the station continues careening.

Panic                     panic
running around searching for answers
severe spinning starts
corkscrew bullet shot at Earth
no solutions                      pure terror
lead eyelids shield vertigo eyes.

Plummeting in an aerospace submarine
burning in the hellfire of the atmosphere
I keep falling until there’s nothing left.

I wonder if this is what it feels like
If my heart is supposed to feel like hot ash,
blowing,
blowing in the wind and landing in my hair?
If my words are meant to be like alphabet soup,
spinning,
equating to be nothing?
Am I meant to feel like an empty shell,
swimming,
sinking to the bottom?

In the midst of her loneliness,
she sings a song of agony,
but no one is around to hear it

Her voice fades away in the cold air;
as she sinks slowly into the darkness
that surrounds her anguished heart