Beneath the Deep

Original Photography retrieved from Unsplash.com by Jeremy Bishop @jeremybishop
I need peace and serenity.  
Not vanity mirrors and
Smoke screens, to move me.
The Façade can be seen through.
It’s luminescence reeks of booze and mood swings.
Foolishly hiding behind bodies like
Linemen.
When binds tighten they suffocate.
They pull me beneath the undertow like dead weight.
Am I a head-case,
Suspended in dead space.
For Pete’s sake.
As the water rises dive deeper.
Still holding breath the deeper I sink.
My lungs deprived of oxygen.
Beneath and within what fills the
Pores will expel from orifice’s
That’s abortion.
Think of Crabs in a barrel, on a carousel that never ends. 
That’s a downward spiral with a spritz of gin.
The high tide collides with brittle sands.
It slams against the river bend,
The force of hurricane winds.
Off subject,
Remorse of a tire iron against a television set but; I digress.
And,
I’ve been
Known to swim poorly.
Contorting beneath the tide, my body resides.
Discomfort mixed with pressure is a death sentence.
But, if it ends here what’s missed cannot be Lived again.
The remains forever lost in the past like an Artifact; buried beneath the deep.

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