Hiding in the Depths


  My oxygen, or at least my carbon dioxide, bubbles out of me in great reverse-gulps. I release it, let it go. Put it back into the world from whence it came, after having destroyed it. Consumed it. Used it made it mine and – with no use for it anymore – hurled it out like it had never been useful to begin with.

  Underwater, where my ears are deafeningly full, its easy to hear. Comprehension is simple. My life makes sense down here, without air, without sound, barely sight – distractions all of them. I can order it all ’til I run out of breath and I start to kick and burst upwards, heaving and choking and thrashing like some monster-movie monster til I’m good to return to the depths. To my depths. To my sanity.

  The world isn’t ready for me yet and I’m not ready for it. But soon, soon I will be.
  Or eight-thirty. That’s when the pool shuts.
  Whichever comes first.


~ by Joseph Blame on May 10, 2011.

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