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⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm ⚠
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My body
/splits/
the water
the way my skin splits
when I feel lost;
when chasms are summoned
beneath the metallic glisten
of a razor blade
as it slashes back and forth
like a catfish's tale.
Along the surface,
a dark laceration materializes
swallowing me upon.
impact.
It takes three seconds
before I resurface.
But underwater,
time is dormant
and three seconds
is an eternity
according to our own
concepts of time.
one mississippi . . .
Beneath the currents,
an eclipse of blue
froths around me
like the carbonated bubbles
of cherry cola--
I drink.
Open-mouthed,
brine whistling
through my teeth,
settling between gnashing enamel.
I do not do this on purpose
(only subconsciously).
two mississippi . . .
And
(subconscisouly)
my arms and legs
anchor in place,
rendering themselves stationary
helpless.
amidst the tide.
I am afraid--
of course,
I am afraid--
but found within my panic
are nuances of curious bewilderment.
three mississippi--
I emerge,
water swimming violently
in my nose,
pale breasts having escaped
the iridescent clamshells
of my swimsuit.
I am undressed
at the hands of the sea.
She knows me well
(oh so intimate.)
With salt and squid ink
foaming at her tongue,
she whispers a truth
I fail to comprehend
into my waterlogged ears:
"child,
it has always been your first instinct to drown.
And,
someday,
drowned you shall be."
Image Source:
Dvornikova, Alexandra. “Giphy .” Giphy , https://giphy.com/gifs/water-illustrated-gif-dark-forest-1Qmu5IfJ3E8KfLaaRe.
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