8 feet under

I turn my music too loud, 

in hopes that it could drown out these thoughts. 

But only making me realize that I am the only thing that's drowning.

 I am drowning. 

I am already drowning.


But I'm not blaming you.

Because the 3 foot deep shallow end never appealed to me,
and the 5 foot mark on warm cement never cut it either,
it wasn't until that 8 foot mark that I felt at home.

Maybe it's because it's easier to feel so deeply,
when you're already eight feet under, nearly skimming the bottom of the floor.

Seeing how deep you can go until the pressure in your ears is unbearable.

Treading water, and holding your breath for as long as you can.
I guess that's how I've always preferred it.


It's my fault for ignoring the no diving signs.

But I had to take a chance,
because I read somewhere to dive into the unknown.
And I thought if I just dove in head first and whole heartedly things would work out fine.


In the end,  I couldn't hold my breath for as long as I thought.
 And you can only tread water for so long.


But that's okay,
 I'm learning to swim.