I am the shipwreck with its scattered and soaked wood littering the ocean like a nest of roaches. The water smothers me patiently, and it waits to feel my body on the ocean floor.
I am the captain. I stand on my ship, never leaving its side, for tonight I sleep in a shark's stomach. The tears and rain both hit my face, as I lay on the deck and wait to drown.
I am the thunder. Hear me roar as I deafen all. I conduct my orchestra as loud as possible and conclude with a violent smash. I am washing the splinters from within my heart and I scream as it pumps. I let my lungs fill with water as the broken bath tub leaks.