pulling

It’s pulling me

the swirling hand of the depths of who knows

And I’m being drowned

nobody on the land can hear my screams

because they’re the silent type

ones i brush off as easily as one would a piece of lint on a sweater

my eyes are drooping

a storm is brewing

and the riptide is pulling me

out to sea

to isolate me

and to let me die

and at this point

its a sweet relief from the relentless bartering from the sea as it turned against me

and pulled me

down

down

down

down