Sinking

I am sinking.

 

I am sinking,

and I can't remember - 

where I started

or why I am here?

 

The azure Sky,

the open Sky Open.

I scent the Earth in myself . . . 

I am sinking.

 

The soil crumbles,

and the little pieces . . .

fall into my Fingers.

I am not alarmed, but

I am sinking

 

The Earth is calm around me,

the brown is cooling,

I inhale Soil and Worry

but I breathe it in

with the Sky.

 

I am still sinking.

 

I swim deeper

by only not resisting 

My eyes remain Open

and the Sky has never left me

But I am underneath the Soil

the Earth

 

It is in my mouth now

it feels cottony

despite gravelly and wet.

I'm not sure where I am.

I accept it. I rest. I soar.

 

Am I sinking

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741