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.
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