Sometimes, I embrace my insanity.
I dive down far, feeling the chilled loveliness slippery on my skin, pressing on my ears. I look back up at the real world, distorted by what I think is real and right; it looks so far away, and your calls to me are faint and garbled by echoes. I don't think I want to come up. It's cool and pleasant here, far away from your feverish, panicked world. But you call me, your voice sweet as you chide me for staying under so long, dry off my hair as I lick the taste from my lips.
I wish you could hold your breath. I want to show you my underwater.