Too deep to reach

Doctor
offers drugs.
Maybe soon, I say.
All at once, I understand.
I have been hurled so far,
so hard, that I have sunk
to the very depths.
I am curled on
the sea bed.

Lacking
medication,
I try to speak;
explain my feelings,
but nothing emanates
except silly, silent bubbles,
rising up through dark water,
to blub and break on the surface
far above, where cheating sunlight
hints at the fib of brighter tomorrows,
where rippling faces gaze, concerned,
and gentle hands stretch toward me,
but I am too deep to reach,
too deep to reach.

I
accept
the
m
e
d
i
c
a
t
i
o
n

©Jane Paterson Basil