May I be honest with you?
…I’m just trying to whether this storm.
Maybe I shall stop kicking and wailing so frantically, so alarmingly?
Maybe I shall let this beat however it desires against me?
Grasping for air wildly
Hoping to breathe
Let it cover me, sink me, carry me, move me…
There comes this point when one must stop..worn out…no energy to proceed
And instead of physical death.
Maybe the better death is in my head.