I sink to where the world hums thick,
arms stretched in surrender to the heavy blue.
Here, light bends like whispers—
Salt seeps into cuts I forgot were there,
bleeding me clean of past selves.

Down here, stillness is deceptive.
A battle hums beneath the quiet,
undertows clutch at ankles like secrets,
tugging me deeper into their dark embrace.
Breath becomes currency I can no longer afford;
lungs beg, but I am stubborn in my descent.

There is beauty in surrender,
letting myself become weightless,
cradled in the arms of what I fear.
The current doesn’t care about my past,
it only asks that I stop fighting.

Give in….

…Release.

Somewhere above, the surface remains a rumor,
a memory as distant as a childhood dream.
But down here, every shadow knows my name,
whispering it in cadence with each wave.
I hear the ghosts of who I used to be—
their echoes blurred as if spoken through glass.

And yet, as I reach the bed of the ocean floor,
I realize this is not an end, but a beginning.
Silt clouds rise around me like unsettled grief,
and in this dark womb, I feel the earth breathe.
I press my palms to the sand,
find footing, and push upwards,

toward the light I once thought I lost.
Above, the surface is breaking.
It’s my turn to rise.