Ten Seconds of Heavy

Above the surface, the air is a riot

of whistles and wet concrete shrieks.

I kick once and the world goes thick.

Everything turns a dull, chemical green.

The goggles are sitting right by the drain,

next to a band-aid that’s lost its stick.

I press my palms to the rough tile floor

and let the silence press back against my chest

until the air in my throat wants to be air again.