On all sides, I am surrounded.
Cleansing water drowning me.
My lungs are filled, but not with air.
I feel them expanding beyond what they should.
Over-expanded lungs breaking ribs.
Broken ribs puncturing over-expanded lungs.
But there is no water.
The water is not real.
The water is in my head.
I'm surrounded by air, and plenty of it.
But yet my breaths are stolen,
As I gasp and choke on water that is not there.
I'm drowning myself.
I'm not breathing, and it's all my fault.
My lungs are not filling, with air or with water,
Because the water is not real,
And though air surrounds me I can't, for the life of me, take it in!
I know I'm not underwater.
But, still, I'm surrounded.
My own mind turning against me.
There is air, but it feels like water.
There is no water, but it doesn't feel like air.
My own mind suffocating me.
All air leaving me.
But in silence.
With a smile, I go numb,
So that you cannot see,
How weak I am.
Defeated by the betrayal of my own mind.