The ship sank a week ago

And I went down with it

I was washing the dishes

Pinned down by the weight of a man

Balancing a food tray at the truck stop diner

Draining the last of my whiskey.

Cramming for an exam on the nebular theory

Taking too many sleeping pills to wake up in time

I send up bubbles of desperation

Off and on. Maybe someone will take notice

Maybe someone will figure it out

That I’m trapped down dying at the bottom

of a polluted ocean of life’s sorest tragedies

Remnants of others lost lives float past

Rusting, scabbing picture frames with no faces inside

A child’s bicycle, clams attached to the handle bars.

Everything is turning green down here

This color is supposed to calm patients down

It is why hospital walls are painted this shade

But I find no comfort when I can hardly breathe

I watch the starfish that graze on my knee

I feel the stingray slip silently past

Its knifed tail nearly touching my bare toes

 The ship sank a week ago

And I went down with it.