I am the shipwreck with it’s scattered and soaked wood
littering the ocean like a nest of roaches.

The water smothers me patiently,
and it waits to feel my body on the ocean floor.

I am the captain. I stand on my ship, never leaving its side,
for tonight I sleep in a shark’s stomach.

The tears and rain both hit my face,
as I lay on the deck and wait to drown.

I am thunder. Hear me roar as I deafen all.
I conduct my orchestra as loud as possible and conclude with a violent smash.

I am washing the splinters from within my heart and I scream as it pumps.
I let my lungs fill with water as the broken bathtub leaks.

Let the clouds be witnesses.