Shivering silently, I slip my eye lids back and stop the flutter. No longer will these eyes touch light, no longer will I flare my nostrils to reel life. As I descend, I stop and stutter. Glaciers for toes, I feel the cold spread through me, and the weight pull me down. Every blink feels like a million years, but not even a million could melt these blocks of ice. Deeper and deeper into the fathomless blue, I’m in a perpetual void and this time, there is no floor. Crawling up the back of my spine and the sides of my shoulders, a memory of dancing finger tips drifts away. Exhale all desire, bubbles of dreams, hopes, thoughts, ideas, and memories float to the surface. I spread my limbs and let the water hug me; it’s the only thing that can now. Cheek bones withered by an era, I will find no air down here. I will settle on no rock, wreck, ruin, or remember-me? I’ll drift until I no longer breath, until it no longer beats, until my head stops throbbing, until I can hear myself think. A premature finale. I will not find a better place, and I will not end up somewhere divine. I will end in silence, so that maybe someone will remember me for something. Or maybe I’ll just drown alone.
