The fingers cover my eyes
Scratching and grabbing
Pulling and shattering
Senses blinding
I\'ve been covered in the grey
The clouds are the sun\'s sheathe
Air pockets are grasped
The flood begins to drain
The water rises
A fluctuation marked by dull punctuation
The swell beats at me repeatedly
There\'s that unfortunate familiarity
The water lowers
I\'ve regained lungs and vocal powers
This time, I rise with the tide
I\'m treading fast;I\'m flowing past
It\'s time to leave the past