aquaphobia

• i had always been afraid of the ocean.
• how ironic this fear of mine was.
• it was never the ocean that would drown me.
• it was myself.
• i was trapped in a room, flooding with nothing but emptiness,
• an emptiness that i had thrusted upon myself.
• it was unbearable,
• the way it rose,
• and my lack of ability to prevent it.
• i couldn’t hold my breath
• as sorrow and regret filled my lungs,
• leaving me gasping for a way to forget
• even if i could flail,
• not a single thing could see me,
• secluded by thick fog and rising tides,
• choking on every mistake
• my pathetic ass had to make
• as i could no longer stand the flood,
• everything ended.
• i could still feel the presence in my room and lungs
• but it no longer hurt.
• a nearly unsettling calm flowed over me,
• leaving me floating alone,
• eyes nearly closed with tired, heavy lids.
• i pondered subconsciously,
• about how i ended up here,
• broken and faded
• it was in these last few minutes that i realized:
• i had been sinking since the start