Canon Ball

Winter was never my favourite season.

My heart's on pause, the blood in my veins
has stopped flowing the way it used to
Now it's like a dead-weight in my chest,
a stinging sensation at the back of my throat.
My secrets are black ink across a blue sky
waiting for the rain to show
And eventually it does

Black balloons across every nerve ending
I suffocate on helium
My senses become tangled and I spiral
Further between black balloons

Like a canon ball waiting to hit rock bottom
Eventually, I will