Balanced

My imaginary friend isn’t doing so well Or, do I refer to myself. It’s tricky as Hell Here I am, Pacing, retracing and contemplating Alternating amongst the wreckage, my heart is racing Now I’m face down, comatose, waiting For the glory, the mercy, an ounce of sympathy An outreached hand to lure me in gently The rising of the tide has me clinging to sweet breath Hope keeps me afloat as I brush with raw death The sea becomes calm and a settling still A euphoric moment, when my lungs are filled But I’m yanked from the serenity of a peaceful demise My surroundings shift, most disturbing, in size The sea, now a tool, to wash down my pill I’m perfectly balanced. Despite how I feel