echo by Natasha Effendy
I’ve always feared,
the innocence
of swimming pools,
for their masked abilities
to accidentally drown you.
i dip my toes
into the icy,
chlorine-treated water,
and lowered my body
into its silky surface.
i submerge myself
deeper underwater,
holding my breath
my nostrils flare,
releasing bubbles.
count with me-
one…two…three…
blue clouds my vision,
an overwhelming blue,
almost blinding,
as the surface glints
ever so iridescent
hoax colours,
like those cowering
behind a shield
of self-assured happiness.
as i lay still,
i float
like i’m being
carried back onto land.
i feel lighter,
physically,
but emotionally,
i stiffen-
i hug my knees
to my chest,
forcing my body
to sink;
to briefly skim the tiles,
so that
i’m my own anchor,
i scream,
my rage shapes itself
into fits of bubbles,
but I don’t see it
do that.
i keep screaming,
determined to
let it all out,
even if it’s muffled,
even if the water chokes me
and burns my throat
and leaves my head dizzy,
perhaps this
momentary death
distracts me,
a refuge
like a hug should.
I punch the tiles,
wishing it were
a wall that will break,
crack; anything really.
i scream and thrash,
my limbs flailing
as my hair gets
in the way,
weightless in the
cool water.
i lose myself,
hands on my head
as i sob,
my tears disappearing
into the waters,
because this feels
like a void
i can see.
i let myself go,
allowing the upthrust
to take over me.
my head breaks through
the surface
and I desperately
gasped for air
after all that screaming
in an abyss
where no one
heard me.
then I float,
my hair clings to my skin,
completely drenched
and leaving me cold
i don’t care;
leave me be
as I extend my limbs
and caress the
small waves,
the interference
i’ve made
in this calm
swimming pool
the water seeps into
my ears
distorting my hearing,
blocking out
the world,
but I just need to
savour the sun
on my skin
and how light I feel,
physically,
and emotionally.
