Fading Limbs

As the ocean succumbed me to its never ending void. Bright ocean blue to dark abyss of this floor I yearn to breakthrough. Securely chained by a golden anchor that now I see is worthless. This very thing is the reason I’m struggling now. All the ambitions I have to crush for me to reach just the peak of the surface, and yet I still can’t let them go.

I may never say I am used to the feeling of capitulation, no. The waves of the seas and the roaring splashes of the ocean may never forgive me. Yes, ironically as it sounds. Even if they’re chocking me in great distaste I still care for their perspective of me. Still insecure even if I feel far from anything for them. Still submitting, still drowning.

Suffocated me with words they all spoke in unison. In a march, one by one pierced through my lungs; left it heaving. Anchors pulled me down and down and down, my ankles are lifeless yet I paddled still.

Treading water never felt so real.


3 thoughts on “Fading Limbs

  1. I’m all for freedom and challenging the norms when writing, but the fragmented sentences are starting to bother me.

    Sentence fragments interrupt the flow of the text, so they have the potential to offer refreshing breaks every once in a while when used sparsely. When used consecutively, however, the flow ends up to be a bit too irregular.

    I think that’s why I felt uncomfortable when reading the first part of this one.


  2. While I read this, the five-year-old kid in me was like, “TOO! MANY! BIG! WORDS!”

    Sometimes less really is more, but people have different writing styles. With a little editing, this one could easily be a winning piece for a declamation contest of some sort, hands down.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s