I'll take a swim
in never winning
I'll be drowned and fade to black
Resurface
Cracks
keep growing wider,
glimpse those gulfs through hair still damp
Whilst submerged
and pulled by currents
to the place I always stay,
you said you had a million good ones
But the days, I fear, are numbered
quite a little less than that.
I'm hearing lies--
the ones I'm telling--
Hissing snow shocked 'cross your screen
The static
Cracks;
it's all you're seeing
and there's nothing on TV.