The Air-Filled Lake

The Air-Filled Lake

There was a lake filled with air.
My mom and dad once took me there.
From the bottom, I could see the sun up close
and all the dreams no one ever chose.

While we drove up,
time went back.
Their eyes turned black.
Water filled the sky.
I held my breath
and hoped to die.

The air-filled lake
with liars in jars on the bottom
and a flying snake.

How could you understand?
You’ve never been declared insane,
dug tunnels underground
to escape creepy voices
that whisper in its name.

Being the one it misses.
Feeling its heartfelt kisses.
Even before you reach your unlucky number.
How I’ve longed for the endless slumber.

Every second you spend with someone is a valid goodbye.
I should have flown to the stars with the water in the sky.
Maybe I could have escaped the hand of time.
Maybe I could have chosen a life of crime.

As it is, I shall seek no more.
I’ll never be free to swim
unless it’s under purple skies,
when everyone will look up
and hear the whispers
of my sweet goodbyes.