lack of

a swimming silence

i suppose looking out the wispy window could've been where i thought of rushing and rushing over to the cliff only to fall down and over and under into the abyss of gravity.
falling within the oblivion and becoming lost in a flashing dark full of quiet.
and i suppose that before this i could've been something more, something truly worth the breath.
maybe something more than a middle name that only childhood friends know and extended family use.
more than a cold gone luke-room-temperature-warm in the pocket apple sauce that sometimes tastes a bit sour.
hair that used to be my ancestor's long and old, but cut into something new, into a purple fabric of complicated comfort.
wispy, cloudy lines of smoke coming out of the ears, not out of absolute maddening anger, but out of the lonliness that would only suffice from the company of something totally imaginary.
i walk straight into the dark acting like i'm not scared, as if i'm the biggest and baddest person to ever walk on this ground, but i'm not.
i'm absolutely terrified.
i'm falling down a hole that falls for several years; exploring how much company i can keep myself and how to entertain the demons in my spine.
my hair is a total mess and i've lost complete sense of direction as the clock never made sense, but i know i'm losing so much time.
a shiny and cold spring-time sun was the only thing warm enough to blast through these devils.
it was the school bus across the street that could've woken up and smashed through the cliff breaking all that has existed and all that will.
the green field of grass with only one path is now dry, barren, a whole ocean filled with the bubbles of breath of people long gone into their unspoken words.
it was the hyphen that meant so much, yet drawn as if it was the little insignificant speck of dirt on the tip of the tallest mountain.
no one would have ever had the chance to steal a glimse of it.
oblivion is the only thing real within the sky of those who have taken air, those who wished for someone to be there to capture them as they fall down into the clouds.
fall into the soft arms of the savior never seen, the galactic rock always worshipped.
there's nothing to breathe in the lungs, i've sunk into the darkness for so long that i see the bioluminescent squids swimming around.
there's light splashing around me and dancing a glorious dance that was too bright for above the cliff.
i wonder if i'll make it.

March 9th, 2020