Wednesday, April 2, 2014

I have a picture in my head.
It is stagnant.
Ever so present.

Of a silhouette of no gender.
Drowning, in a deep cold water.
Its arm reaching out to the surface, it can feel the air already in its palm.

Another figure on a ledge on the water.
It is up there, safe and sound.
From the chill and deepness,
the darkness of the water.

Aware of that arm, that is trying to get out.
It puts its hand out.
Not to grasp that cold helpless hand out of the chilling water.
But to push its head down.

Deeper and deeper.
Until it drowns.
And die.