Drowning

The river’s swift graze
erodes the land
easily sweeping those who
sit insecurely on their roots
into its depth.
Losing their way,
now insignificant and
rushing toward the sea...
No dignity to hold them high
or afloat.
The crashing waves
push, pressure
no room to breathe
no chance to
scream.
Clinging to a dream,
(no more than a piece of
brittle, rotting driftwood)
in hope of salvation,
but false promises of fame,
fortune and fucking
weigh heavy.
I’ll swim back to land,
though it’s harder
than giving in.
The price
of breathing on your own
is steep,
but I’ll no longer let them
hold my head under water.