I have drowned in the sea
Twice, both times on
Errant monster hunts
When the sea takes you
You forget you are
Miles from hope, just a
Fleshy vessel being
Filled against its will.

It is one of those thoughts
That seem implausible
So much water you die
So much life yours ends
Is there a precise
Volume that your body
Rejects, that tips the scale
Thrusting you under

I have drowned in milk
Some half dozen times
Erratic events, in
Plain sight, a spectacle
As if these things warrant
Eyes latched on you in some
Perversion of art
White paint in retrograde

Milk suggests innocence
Maternal nurture that
You may never experience
Supplanted instead by
Filth, disgust, horror
Excuse yourself, make way
You will bathe and retch
Until the next time

I have drowned in blood
Once, and nothing you
Taste or smell remains
Untainted
It should stay in veins
Unspilled
Instead you come
Undone

Would you be better off
Left face down in the
Shallows
It could be pleasant
No more calculations
Public shamings
One-off encounters that
Somehow are your fault

I have drowned
Hold me under
To be sure

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Mayan, in the year 866 AF.