Day 5: concrete.

well...here's what started as a concrete nouns poem and then morphed into something else.

Sometimes I can feel the
invisible pull of the steel-cold tether
     moored to a cement tree
     in the spring tide I
     fight my way from the sinking of my feet
     absorbed into the earth -
     my scream muted by the rush
     of black water - waves crushing and
     crashing -

Will I die from this crush of void?
Will it hurt when I give into the
     relief of coming up for air
or give into the
     disappointment that the void
    did not want me?

My hands tremble, curiously
     from the wrist when I think-
     when I think.
     I think, I'm ready to stop
     and let something close to
     something resembling love move me-
then my heart stops
     the crushing uncertainty
     will it start again?
Submerged in doubt of not
     knowing -
     not knowing if it's okay
     to come up for air
     if it's okay to fight against the cable holding
     me down, under water.