Cracks In The Concrete

Treading Water

I can't breathe, the water is slowly enveloping my lungs, it's sick of being held at bay for years. It wants revenge, it wants to swallow me whole.

I feel drained, my body and mind are exhausted and no longer have the bandwidth to constantly be running with such conviction. Running toward the goal I thought I knew was my life's purpose but now I'm not so sure. 

I can't do what I love anymore without looking at it through a lens of obligation, I've over worked myself and now I'm sour.

I  swim in a constant state of languish, my body floating on the surface of a dark abyss, waiting.

Hours go by slow but days go by fast, one day is the next, and there I lay unmoving staring at the ceiling.

Waiting.

I could move if I wanted to, I think.

But I don't want to, I don't want to be seen, I want to hide in the safety of my mind, which gets sicker my the day, paranoia and delusion are wrapping my head like thick banners that snap in the wind.

They become more and more real everyday, I thought I had control, I thought I could make them leave whenever I wanted, but I can't they, get louder and more visible each passing day.

I've been pushing so hard for three years, but I can't do it anymore.

I know I've felt this way longer than I can admit, but I can't bear to stop treading, because who am I without the very thing that drove me to this silently loud void in the first place.

Maybe I want to let the water take me a little, hear it's screams, feel the water steal my air and let the finality of it all sink in as I watch the world above me disappear, maybe this is my own fault.

I'm sick of treading water. But I can't stop or I'll drown, because to drown is worse than to die. To drown is not death.

-Eli

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