In water,
I am slim as nothing.
My body is fluid like water plants.
Swirling and twisting as it pleases without my knowledge.
The water doesn’t embrace, but engulfs me.
Keeping me from being watched, from being judged, by myself and the world.
The world doesn’t exist where there is water.
It melts away, in a never ending pool of nothing.
Blackness behind shut eyes.
Liquid freedom of my open mind.
Resting, soaking away the despair.
As decaying bubbles for free-spirited air,
Dancing around my contour,
Taking on the colors of my flesh,
That I finally remember when I emerge,
Skin never white but translucent,
As glittering liquid spiderwebs drip away.
I see the veins, every cut, every scar.
Staring with gasping blue eyes,
Floating on angel feet,
Soft as white wings.
Lips red-orange like coral.
Hollowed eye-sockets,
Stained black by my sad attempt at beauty.
I still see every imperfection,
As the water trickles away,
Cold and unwanted now.