Underwater moody stories

pendependent A good person, perhaps
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
A poem about saving yourself sometimes


Underwater, I think that I’m Underwater. And it doesn’t matter which way I swim, Because it’s always the wrong direction.

I want someone to help me; To tell me which way to swim, So I wouldn’t keep on sinking. But I keep on swallowing the water And I can’t speak.

Who keeps stealing the words from my lungs? And ripping them deeper into the water? I’m so sick And tired Of not being able to call for help.

I guess that I have to just swim And if I run out of power, Well at least I can say I tried.

I’ll die And they’ll say I was strong, But that I should’ve asked for help. You can’t scream Underwater.

It will just fill your lungs with water. Or maybe there was a solution That I hadn’t thought of before. I wouldn’t have to get to the surface If I could breathe underwater.

If I couldn’t make it to the top I’d live here as a mermaid And it would be good enough. Maybe I could even learn to be happy Even though I’m surrounded by water alone.

I was Underwater But maybe, I was the company That I needed all along. It’s time I save Myself.

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