Now I weight me down to sleep

with the fishes. Feet slip the bridge.

Down I go. No sense of sinking

or water rising. Dry to drowning.

Blind to beauty, deaf to music.

No time in the deep, divorced

from current waves. It’s actually peaceful

before the need to breathe seizes

water-logged thoughts, galvanizes limbs

(guilt-ridden, tired, and heavy) and panic

comes cruising like a school of carnivores;

needle teeth frenzy thrashes and froths.

Super-human focus to break paralysis,

to pry glue from my eyes. So much force:

squeeze my will through the eye of the needle

teeth, telekinetically kickstart my heart, resist

my resistance, focus will power, escape

velocity, faster than gravity, so fast

my weights pop the surface, erupt

like a muddy phoenix! So much force my skin

ripples as I pass the clouds. And now…

I can’t slow down.