I’m low
Like I’ve never been before
Like I’ve been given a low blow to the soul
Lower than grass roots level
I’m by the water table
Feet in the water, but my throat is in the vocal desert
Empty
Only cries ‘cause I’m headed towards my demise
Tears of salt mingle with the freshest source
Soul soothers stuck at my feet, I might just retreat
Failure to conform
No, failure to fathom
The concoction of present with my saltier past
It won’t settle, it won’t mix
It’s just as Oil and water
It’s right above it
Black and slick blocking my source
My only source of living
The very air and moisture I later perspire
It right above me, I’m right above it
Even though I’m low.
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