days are blending
one after another
like monsoon season
watering down everything
even worms drown
under the weight
and so do i

yet a soft punch
up from the slime
because; because
down here it’s miserable
i don’t want to be here
where light is gold
and happiness is too

i want to be above
basking in happiness
maybe on a beach
listening to waves
and people walking by
and the sun lighting a fire
deep within my soul

i want to be far away
from the soggy sketchy swamp
where thought rules
and sleep is nonexistent
where you can taste
the anxiety and pain
spread on stale toast

you think i enjoy this
but i’m telling you i don’t
i want to laugh and sing
i want to create things
as i step outside
i want to smell
fresh cool air

one day
even if not here
i will make it
and it will be