Sinking

I have been taught to sink Into duck feather And Bath water Into easy to get Hard to do Into dreamless nights Into sitting in a worn out armchair My hips can’t squeeze into And going nowhere. Like rocks in pockets Of sad people Taking trips to the ocean I have been taught to sink . I have always struggled Maybe it is the way that I carry My weight Or maybe it is the way That I carry Every word That ever meant a thing Like great helium balloons Floating above my head. By the time the sun reaches me It is coloured and scattered Like confetti. Or maybe it is the way That I carry thoughts Like great orange water wings Cold plastic digging in to armpits. Or maybe it is the way That my legs Kick Like they are going somewhere Even if somewhere Is just Not Down.