It is a strange thing to watch someone you love drown.
You try to hold them up, try to save them, but they go down and down and down.
You reach out, beg them to take your hand, but they turn away.
You can only watch as their face distorts into a freakish smile as they say:
"I'm ok."
Now you stand alone on the shore,
Your only company lone shells and dried kelp.
The waves have claimed the person you love and all you can do is scream:
"What for?
"Why them?
"Why did no one help?"
But no one hears you.
There are similar cries all along the shore, people who have lost the ones they love to the endless sea.
We are not heard.
Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to sink into the inky black.
So that you may join the person you have lost, maybe even try to bring them back.
And before you know it you're up to your waist and feeling the current pull at you, tug at you.
And someone out there will look at you.
It is a strange thing to feel yourself start to drown.
The water in your ears making the rest of the world's noises become dull.
You try to swim to the surface but it is so hard, too hard, you just want to rest...
The empty darkness seeps into your head, pounding against your skull.
It draws you down and as you try to call out your cries are suppressed.
Maybe there is someone crying out for you.
Maybe there is a hand reaching out for you.
Take it.
YOU ARE READING
Monsters
Poetry"A bunch of poems about mental illness" didn't sound great as a title, but that's basically what this is. This is my first book and I honestly just wrote these in my notes app, went "Screw it," and posted them. If these don't correlate to specific e...
