Written by Jacob Ibrag
Wrapped in confusion, or am I married to
delusion that everything will gravitate towards its
right place. Refraining from movement, it’s this belief
that has me stagnant. Self paralysis. It’ll get better, no point
of lifting a finger. After a while, the water starts coming in
faster, reaching my neck. Yet I’m not in a panic, this was all
meant to happen. Motionless, steady as an old man at an
elderly home. Then it starts creeping into my mouth,
and then my ears. I can’t breathe, I begin to fade.
By the time I realize my mistake, it’s too late.
Forged my own destiny and fate.