Sinking Still

But she kept sinking without struggle. Because the more she fought to stay afloat, the harder she found it was to breathe.

And before she knew it, she was sinking still, as light as air, like a leaf falling off a dying tree come Autumn.

Finally, at peace, she didn’t fight to breathe as she hit the bottom; ‘nor did she worry that there was no more room to sink.

She closed her eyes, forgot her troubles, trusted the anxiety, and with acceptance, drowned in all that consumed her.

Water surrounding her struggle, forming to her body and cradling every curve, defeat was looming..

But she rose to the surface for one last breath.