Footprints [poetry]

Footprints

I am drifting.
The familiar saltwater body
Cast in shades of grey.
Bringing color to the world was never an option,
Not in this one anyways.
Since my lively heart stopped beating,
Shouldn't I feel nothing?
If my heart truly beats no more
then why must this awful feeling
Of trepidation and perturbation,
Continuing to grow,
Getting bigger,
And bigger,
And bigger.

My mind is a scary place,
One that I know I'll have to face at some point,
But for now I find myself
Drifting.
Out to this never ending ocean of grey.
Every single grain of sand, no matter how small, pierces the soft skin of my toes.
I wander aimlessly,
Each footprint left behind disintegrating
As the waves crash over and over.
Just until they don't anymore
And for a moment,
Something in me changes.

There is a clock inside of my rib cage.
Among my heart,
Packed in next to my lungs.
As they expand, it gets harder to breathe.
I take a deep, painful breath
Inhaling the sweet smelling breeze.
I make new footprints,
Hopeful that these ones might persevere.
But the water arrives once again,
and the clock stops ticking.
Yet,
I never staggered or fussed.
I have never felt confound, disquiet, maybe.
But never confound.
Dread was always a constant.
Nothing ever lasts,
So I wander,
And I wander
For what seems like forever
Time has stopped,
And so has my heart.
Then why am I still alive?
Is this a dream?
No,
This is a nightmare,
Except the fear is replaced with nothing but stone walls that protect
My cold, stilled heart.

These walls are much stronger than I am.
I depend on them.
Every so often, I notice a small crack.
A sharp ping in my chest,
A shake in my legs,
A blur in my eyes.
I am
(I feel)
nothing
(yet everything at the same time).