Water in our lungs,

scrapes and bleeding cuts

Asking one another

if the other is okay,

if they are fine,

if you are alright

Not asking ourselves,

not noticing yourself

sinking in the deep end

Not looking in a mirror

to see the way my face has changed

how tight my jaw is,

how the tears shed have helped my skin

how the bags beneath my eyes have simply grown in size

As I choke and wheeze

words barely audible

As the salt rubs the cuts,

intensifies the flesh wounds I have acquired

over the many moons spent looking after others

I struggle to survive, but I survive through my fixation on problems

belonging to different friends