At the bottom of the sea
along that rocky floor
I sit inhaling this pressure,
and my lungs grow sore.

Looking up towards the surface
That high escape,
I reach for a touch of air
with swaying fingertips.

My body feels weak, so tired
as seaweed tangles in my hair
I could brush it all away
if I could only care...

The waves above lap against the shore
hugging beaches in my stead.
They sway waters over me
Until at last...I..am...dead...

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