Vent

My bones are aching, I feel some external force tugging my soul down into a hole, that I have dug. People are reaching in to help me, but their ropes are to short. Water, its deep in this well. I attempt to kick and swing my arms, to resurface for air, but I am tied by the binds that my very hands have tied. My scream, muted, merely makes little bubbles in the water. I wish for it all to stop, but this hole, it is too deep. No light reaches the bottom. People, light, people are on the top, shining light at me. I clamber to the slippery stones, but the darkness of the well and the waves are relentless. They seem to suffocate me in some abyss that clouds my mind, my judgment. I open my eyes for a second, see the ladders, the stairs, but the salt of the water forces me to close them, and I slip once again to my ever cumbersome state. The water, cold as ice, stings my skin, penetrating my mind once again. Ladders, stairs, hands, but the water freezes my eyes, and I blink once to shatter the icicles of frozen water, and the mirage of help disappears. Life seems to continue in this vicious cycle. A hand. It reaches down, touches my solemn body, the feeling of contact from another sends ripples through my body. My hand, reaches, to clench the help, but I am unable to. The solitude that has engulfed me once again pulls me farther down, drowning further, decaying farther. No help, no help, no help, just darkness… just darkness… .