Fish Bowl

What if we were meant

To release our breath

Some silent sort of death

That creeps and rolls like a mist

That by morning creeps in

And by the afternoon

Won’t be missed.

What if our hearts

Ceased to beat

And stayed on repeat

To fool ourselves into thinking

We still exist.

But what if that sinking feeling

And the kicking within

Was just the soul refusing

To simply give in?

What if emotions were just a ploy

To manipulate and toy

To torture the soul

To give it hope

To deprive it of rope

To enslave

To ensure

That the soul will never cure

To remain afflicted

And cursed

And restricted

And hurt

Until the soul can bear no more.

What if your words soothed my soul?

What if your voice gave me hope?

What if the world was made for only us,

And our souls were always one?

What if we remained in love ‘til the day

Our souls float on?