god,
it's like having a conversation
at the bottom of a swimming pool
but i guess that's suitable because you always did
make my lungs feel two sizes too small
i'm staring at you through a hundred broken lenses like
everything is valued in a different shade of blue
and i keep trying, i keep trying but
air bubbles dance up around me everytime i open my mouth to speak
— they dance as i sink and why are they dancing?
distantly, i can remember dancing with you
and maybe, dancing is the only way you can escape
when you're smiling too wide to cry for help
and i find myself gasping for air
but here, where sound is swallowed by depth
you could think that i'm laughing instead
chlorine burns my throat and
this is not what summer is supposed to taste like
i can't feel the wetness or the cold just yet
but i can feel myself going, going, going
and as my visions blurs, the last thing i see is
you,
grinning from behind a scuba mask,
and i can't help but wonder:
why are you allowed to breathe while i drown?
it's like having a conversation
at the bottom of a swimming pool
but i guess that's suitable because you always did
make my lungs feel two sizes too small
i'm staring at you through a hundred broken lenses like
everything is valued in a different shade of blue
and i keep trying, i keep trying but
air bubbles dance up around me everytime i open my mouth to speak
— they dance as i sink and why are they dancing?
distantly, i can remember dancing with you
and maybe, dancing is the only way you can escape
when you're smiling too wide to cry for help
and i find myself gasping for air
but here, where sound is swallowed by depth
you could think that i'm laughing instead
chlorine burns my throat and
this is not what summer is supposed to taste like
i can't feel the wetness or the cold just yet
but i can feel myself going, going, going
and as my visions blurs, the last thing i see is
you,
grinning from behind a scuba mask,
and i can't help but wonder:
why are you allowed to breathe while i drown?
