sigh

Burnt-out, sinking, the charred remains of a derelict vessel on its requiem into the deep.

I wish it could be this easy.

If only the figurative were the literal.

Two years of anxiety, continual struggles and vacillations, I just want it to end.

I'm so tired I can't study, can't smile with friends when we watch movies

I'm so tired...

I need someone to hold me

Make sure I fall into rest, not a hard crash

Lie my head on a pillow and kiss my forehead

Instead of a free-fall with the cold kiss of the concrete floor.

Plath's aquatic nocturne, full of slow calm and silent depth,

with pretty flickers of light...

deep in liquid
turquoise slivers
of dilute light


quiver in thin streaks
of bright tinfoil
on mobile jet:


pale flounder
waver by
tilting silver:


in the shallows
agile minnows
flicker gilt:


grapeblue mussels
dilate lithe and
pliant valves:


dull lunar globes
of blubous jellyfish
glow milkgreen:


eels twirl
in wily spirals
on elusive tails:


adroit lobsters
amble darkly olive
on shrewd claws:


down where sound
comes blunt and wan
like the bronze tone
of a sunken gong.


I want this calm oblivion