there are sharks in the water, don't bleed out

We sit in the sun, ethereal like silver lightning bolts fizzing out on golden lakes.

The ocean does not forgive. It never has, not when waves grab our lungs and pull us under, or when tsunamis choke our hearts.

We're barely clinging to life as it is, clutching what's left of this devastated ego

Lifeboats meant to keep us afloat. Smile, swim, survive. Hard, isn't it? 

Especially when sharks are lurking under the waters.

Rule number 1, don't cry. Ever. If you cry, make sure it's only because you need to lure people in. Your eyes are as alluring as a siren's, beautiful when they're tear-stricken and spilling over.

Rule number 2, always be happy. Smile because you need to, but don't make it forced. Laugh at bad jokes and those idiots who pretend they care.

Stay perfect, love. Or you'll bleed.

Sharks can smell blood, and they'll come for you.

We sit here like we're self-made deities of this society. Maybe we are on the outside. Bottoms up, darling. We'll get drunk from salt-tasting soda in the evenings. I never wanted to hurt myself, and you never wanted to be something you weren't, but here we are.

We're all trying to float, but we're drowning slowly.

And when we find land, that unforeseen, forsaken barren stretch of desert-

We'll stop holding hands with each other and climb up ourselves.

And then, when we finally get there, hair streaked with saltwater, irises burning from the sun, we'll ask-

Who was left behind for the sharks?