If I were to drown it would be cold and distant.

As waves smashed my soul and broke my walls in an instant.

The burning would not be from water in my lungs.

But from the lack of the air as if I were being hung.

If I were to drown I would put up a fight.

I would pump my limbs with all of my might.

Straining to reach the light up above.

But farther it got with every single shove.

And if I were to drown it would be slow and silent.

No one would ask or know where my mind went

Because water cannot rip the air out of me.

Like the thoughts in my head when I try to sleep.