The Rock

The Rock

God made a rock.

The rock stayed in its place
And it got covered in moss
And the moss was too hot
In the summer
And the ground beneath
Grew too soft, too smooth,
Yet impossible to move from
So God moved the rock
In a new place
But the new place was hard, solid, uncomfortable
And without the moss
It was cold in the winter.
The rock wanted to go back.
But now, back in its first home
It wouldn’t be long
Before the rock would ask
To be moved again
And God said „Aren’t you
The most tragic being of them all?”


I can taste the smashing of bones
On my tongue
Because of how real it feels
But what do I care?
I’m drowning,
I can feel my lungs expand
In my chest
Trying to fill themselves with air :
They fight, they tremble, they try.
They shatter.
I can’t breathe.
I’m drowning,
I can feel my skin bruise on my flesh
And my flesh shake under my skin
And there’s nothing I can do
I’m drowning,
I feel my everything so very vaguely
I no longer know who I am
Or if I ever was somebody
And if I try, I don’t know if I can
Be a person.
Can a sack of solid thoughts measure a heart?
Can it outweigh it?
Does it matter?
I’m drowning,
I only want to breathe once more
Before I go all the way down
And I no longer know
My way up,
My way home,
My way to my heart.
I’m drowning,
Tell me, will you
Drown with me?
Hold my hand as water fills your lungs,
Kiss my lips as your skin turns sour,
Hold me as our heartbeats quiet down,
Tell me you love me as I curse you,
Doom you, drag you down below
With me?
And we’re drowning,
Izabela Coșe, 12E

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