Swimming

Just Swimming

I’ve been sinking in the slow way,

The kind that doesn’t splash—

Just folds you into the blue

Like it’s been waiting.

Everything feels a little out of phase lately,

Like the world is breathing in

While I’m breathing out,

Our rhythms arguing without sound.

I keep telling myself

Just float,

But my thoughts are stones

With names I don’t say out loud.

There’s a tiredness in my chest

That feels carved, not worn—

Like someone meant for it to be permanent,

Like I’m a house built on soft sand

Pretending it’s bedrock.

And yeah, I’ve tried swimming for the light,

But the current keeps catching my ankles,

Pulling me back into the deep

Where everything is quiet

And everything is too loud

Inside my head.

Still, I move.

Arms heavy, heartbeat stubborn.

Not graceful—just persistent.

There’s a certain kind of hope in that,

A ragged, salt-soaked thing

That refuses to drown

Even when I swear I’m done fighting.

So I’ll keep pushing water aside,

One breath after the next,

Waiting for the moment

The surface remembers me—

And I remember

I was never meant to stay under forever.

Just swimming,

Just trying,

Just here.

---

---

Thank you so much for reading <3

If you enjoy my work and want to support what I do, consider subscribing (paid-subscribers get a big wet kiss), sharing, or leaving a comment—it means the world.

You can also check out my published stories, Sehnsucht, In The Season Of The Corn Doll, and Le Mort-Vivant, available now on Kindle.

If you’d like to help fuel my writing, you can buy me a matcha (or a coffee) on Ko-fi.

I’m deeply passionate about storytelling, poetry, and about putting myself out there to see what echoes back—who feels it, who’s moved, and what conversations it sparks. Thank you again for being here on the journey.

xoxo, madlizze

Any use of this written work, or parts of this will be considered unauthorized. All rights reserved. ©M. Elizabeth. 2025.