Misery

I live each day in misery,

cold and unrelenting,

like the freezing burn of the sea

that washes over the bleeding wounds of the soul

burning the life out of me.

I walk through the thick water 

breathing liquid in my lungs,

unable to move my arms and legs, 

exhausted from the sheer force 

of having to push against 

a ghostly force that no one sees but me.

I imagine being able to fly 

in an open blue ocean,

one that lies above,

unrestricted by heavy chains

and pressures that crush

even the strongest to nothing

but simple dust to be collected

by the ocean and turned

in to the sands that 

people step on day to day

without ever wondering.  

 

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