Breaking Down

I cried today.
I cried because of what I couldn't control.
I cried because I couldn't fix what is broken.
I looked at my hands and I wished they could fix things.
I willed them to work on my behalf.
I begged them to make my life better.
Only they just stood there with warm soapy water dripping over them from the kitchen sink.
My vision was blurred from the tears, but I could see the dishes in a pile. They were all different colors; green, red, yellow bowls.
I pleaded with my hands. Please, please make it better.
Stop my life from spinning.
Help me to stand still.
They didn't hear me.
The water rose in the sink.
It rose and filled the sink to the brim. My eyes widened as the water continued to
grow in circumference.
I felt a warm sensation at my bare toes. The water was dripping onto the gray tiled floor. It moved up my calves. It continued
to consume my thighs.
The warm water lurked and climbed up to
my trunk.
I begged my hands to help. Stop this.
Make it cease.
They didn't listen.
The water worked its way up to my neck
and finally my face.
My whole body was surrounded by warm
all-consuming water. I tried to move my arms but they felt like flippers.
I was stuck in a gelatinous existence.
Help me hands.
I am moving through water.
Slowly
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