all my life
what I mistook for friendly 
pats on the back
were really the hands 
that pushed me 
further and further down
the more I struggle
the less I achieve
deep chlorine breaths
minutes bleed into hours
bleed into days
something keeps me in 
this disinfected womb

we see things differently 
in daylight, I suppose
I mean everythings an excuse 
for something
but my conscience is intact
I can deny everything
im waving into blind eyes