Discontinuation Syndrome

I wake at the bottom.

I’m drowning, though I rise.

I’m clawing to the surface, though

I don’t want to survive.

It’s not because the surface keeps moving far away

Or that I’m too tired to fight the current’s sway.

I claw from muscle memory,

from stronger, hopeful days

when the sun, within my reach

said death was not today.

When its shine was strong enough to warm the shallow blues.

I claw through all these memories

knowing I will lose.

They shred apart to pieces as my heart bursts in my chest.

Anchoring to the bottom

my body, now lifeless.