My mind is depraved. A sarcastic fringehead, erasing my thoughts faster than they can swim. Breathing in water, my lungs fill with salted froth. I bite my tongue and an acrid brine pervades the void. Loosening my grip on reality, paralyzing limbs cloud my vision like angry, stinging ink. All I hear is the loud, wild rushing against a distant and banging im. Sinking, gasping, then fearless. Been here. Done this. I ride the wave to shore where it crashes indignantly into rocks. White and angry it beats the sand, knowing I win this round. Displacing each grain of the quiet coast until it fatigues, retreating. No sign it was there revealed except damp, manicured dirt. Back it goes, retreating quietly. Churning beneath the surface, plotting to crash again. It will not consume me.