... I can feel pieces of lungmeat rattling around loose.
think i'm ready to die hey
no loss. i've kind of wasted this life anyway. ninteen years of oxygen consumed, and what do I have to show for it? apparently I'm losing my mind according to those around me.
I don't think I'm so much losing my mind as the real world is losing it's grip on me
the ground falls away
replaced with blackness that creeps up my boots
and tugs at my laces
notsomuch swallowing or sinking as simply... reclaiming