Panic delays the thought process in increments of thousands. Blast processed into silver lined stereoscopes that hang from the chandelier in the middle of the ocean. Boats coasting on fumes steer into the abyss never to return, course locked in, all hands on deck, abandon ship. No time for life rafts, no time for rubber duck floaters, just jump into the water and brace for the waves. Suffering bends peak mental awareness, shaking uncontrolled metabolism into harsh upstream regurgitated with force until blue slips over. Washed out membranes embrace at the point of impact, the last feeling of survival is the beating drums of the earth. Look up towards the acicular shapes as they pierce your eyes, the final sting before the swarm.
What is this sound in the side of your head, what is the buzzing? Weird tension in the sensory cortex bursting fire and ice, inducting a calm coma state. Snared by confusion and lost in panic reaching for the surface, climbing higher and higher but in reality sinking deeper. Desperate booms echo in the distance, trauma set to the highest functionality of mirrored paths crossed out on used alchemy paper. Clear of understanding, over standing bounds and limits set by time lost infractions that no one will ever comprehend. A last ditched effort at freedom thwarted by rebelling limbs, refusing to cooperate, ignoring instructions, numb waste. A fleeting gesture of the lungs, air pocket out of tune, packed with silt and salt. Choke. Gurgle.
Recuperation torn from the grasp of your shattered fingers. Not just yet, a glimmer of light, a hopeful star catches the torn eye. Drawing closer or so it appears, sound pours from your skin, a break in silence reawakens your senses. Zen like structures float around you, offering a small comfort, a stay of execution. Surface explodes in tiny little dots, exploding in every direction, down and up, design lost, malformed reactions. Constricted cordage stitches covered in mossy wood tumbles across broken infrastructure. Blinded by the star, the thunder rapidly fades, adjustment of the cortex, realign the synapse. A faint noise now, slow but picking up speed; beep, beep, beep. Salvation is one tick away, one burst of lightning, finally a relief, light, hope.