My father is a beast.
That’s what I think at least.
At me?He screams.
Nice he seems!
(He kills my dreams.)
I can’t say what I think,
FAST GIVE HIM HIS DRINK!
He is an alcoholic,
Beer makes him diabolic .
I’m really scared,
And very unprepared.
I need to hide my scars,
And start wishing on stars,
I want to shine in the dark,
And feel the spark.
He pushes me underwater,
And asks me:
Daughter what’s the matter?
He knows I can’t swim,
But still acts like a grimm.
I’m losing my breath,
Between Life and Death.
Water, so deep,
I’m slowly falling asleep.
But I do not want to wake up,
“Something came up,”
I’m fighting with myself,
Everyone else yells.
The only voice I cannot hear,
Is mine, oh dear.

Sometimes it seems like my heart is rotten,
it can't feel anything but the pain,
and I can't touch it, 'cause wounds are open...
I am my calm and my hurricane.

Sometimes I think I've concurred the monster.
But then, again, the image starts clouding.
They say the human body is 60% water...
Well, that explains why it feels like I'm drowning.

Laughter skips across the surface of the lake like a skipping stone emanating different eerie high-pitched tones that seem to echo the ghostly chirps of birds that have gone quiet and no longer fly. Nothing like one would imagine a stone's speech to be like.

A fine flat surface water-weaves itself once more. Nothing threatens to disturb it again. Not even bubbling from below. There are no thermal vents with life growing along their warm edges. No aquatic life beneath that unknowingly breathes its wishes which are carried to the surface and up into the blank slate of a sky.

Beneath it all is a cool concrete floor much like the ones in any backyard pool in the suburbs. Nothing of nature, of adaptability. Only neutral stone at its depths.