Drowning

Drowning.

 

I am drowning.

Not from lack of air or water gushing into my lungs,

I am drowning in myself.

There is a weight,

That cannot simply be called ‘baggage’ because,

It is constant, and baggage, well that’s temporary.

It is a dragging, lagging, staggering kind of burden,

One that kicks, pricks and sticks under your skin,

Slowly unraveling the mystery, and the makeup, of the human mind.

Searching for the cracks and issues,

It forms deep rifts and used tissues.

Forever creating havoc and chaos,

It goes un-noticed.

How?

There is a weight,

That cannot simply be called baggage because,

It is so much more.

It is darker, starker and a disorder.

It is a destroyer, a breaker, a human devastator

That knows neither end nor cure.

Only consumption,

Of a person, of a soul, of a human,

I am drowning.

Not from lack of air or water gushing into my lungs,

I am drowning in myself.

Author's Note

What do you think of the idea in this, plus any help or critiques are appreciated!