Drowning

A yellow person is facing you with both hands holding the sides of their neck. They are wearing pink top with green nails.

I think I’m drowning in the green of your eyes.

Can’t help but drown in your voice,

Vibrating against my ribcage.

Sinking into your cold, cold skin.

I think I’m suffocating,

With the taste of your poisonous lips.

Holding mine, the tracing of your fingertips,

Makes me sink further and further,

Beneath the green, envying foam.

I think I must be drowning,

Drowning in you.

My lungs are so filled,

That I can’t help but want you to drown too.