I'm just tired. Physically, and mentally.
The waves are sharp, cutting into me, stabbing at my life vest.
I sailed into this situation. I keep looking for my other sailor, to help me build a raft.
But this time?
It won't be permanent.
But, he's nowhere.
Or... somewhere else
And because of MY decisions, I'll drown quicker
So many days, I want to simply close my eyes, and let the liquid seep itself into me.
My lungs, my blood, stifling my spirit away.
Death? It's only sleep.
The water will no longer hurt me. I won't have to tire myself constantly, trying to swim, search for land, or old drift wood to cling to.
Things in life to cling to.
But I keep on kicking, swimming, and breathing.
Sometimes, I wonder where I end, and the ocean begins.
Maybe I'm apart of this body of water.
So why do I deserve a boat?