I remember drowning
in salty waves that crested
thick and foamy with self-doubt.
I remember suffocating,
a throat like thick pudding,
clogged with fears of inability.
Time was a snake stretched out before me,
dark and tortuous with an end that seemed
That black snake consumed my world.
I existed where the sharp tang
of the alarm formed cotton in my mouth.
The final bell was like coming up for air.
I gulped it in; my eyes overpowered by
blues and greens and yellows that sparkled.
The back build was a silver sledgehammer swing
that crushed the norms of my life,
and I quilted the pieces around me like armor.
But he doesn’t have a final bell,
and that damn snake is coiled around him so endlessly,
all he can see are the oily scales.