Deep

A poem about the way I get when reading a really good book.

The water below, tempts me
murky and dark, calling me.
It's deep, inviting and blinding.
I step in.

The water rushes around, warming me
smooth and caressing, holding me.
It's pulling, sucking and dragging.
I let it.

The surface above me, I'm forgetting
distant and dark, I'm letting go.
It's rushing around me and sustaining.
I like it.

The bottom grounds me, I'm here
living and breathing, I'm home.
It's healing me and saving.
I want it.

The surface coming closer, seeing me
uncovering and emptying, leaving me.
It's going, bleeding and seeping.
I don't want it.

The waters gone, I'm uncovered
empty and hollow, I'm dying.
It's left me nowhere.
I need it.