Drown II

I feel like I’m drowning.
The stomachache is the psychosomatic response to the emotional pain.
So much pain that I lose breaths
And steps. I almost fell walking to church today.

Imagine trying your hardest to stay above water.
In an ocean of despair. Tidal waves of pain.
You manage to find a lifebuoy, something to cling to.
Then, in a matter of seconds, it’s pulled from you.

Now you’re drowning.
There’s no air underwater.
There’s no love amongst hate and pain.
You pray asphyxiation will take it all away.

Only death takes her time with you.
She’d rather see how much longer you’d cling to life.
So she lets the water fill your lungs until it’s all you know.
You breathe pain now, you exhale strife.

Now everyone knows you as the depressed kid.
The “tumblr-esque” shell of the guy you used to be.
They don’t know that you bleed water now.
They don’t know that you almost drowned.

They tell you to stop floating.
They don’t know this is your way of coping.
They think it’s an excuse to lose consciousness.
Not an escape with prude consequence.

They don’t know that you cried before you came to school.
They tell you to stop being soft, as if you were ever hard.
You can’t control yourself, you beg for help.
But everywhere you turn, there’s so much water.

Your grandfather died. That was the excuse for the tears in 06.
Only it’s 2013 now and the tears still exist.
A dam was built for the water, to hold it at bay.
But it broke down, yesterday.

Now the water is raging and it’s flooding.
You’re smoking heavy. You’re high. You’re bloody.
A scrap with a guy who’s bout that life.
Your face swollen from the fists and your throat punctured with the knife.

“I let you off easy nigga, you should be dead by now.”

“At least someone gets it.”

Not depressed.
No, more like suppressed.
Water’s been suppressed for too long now.
I let it all in, I drown.