A dying acrostic

A constrained writing attempt by Swathi Chandrasekaran.
I’m dying.
Finally, I’d add!
Really can’t manage anymore.
Out of my depths entirely.
My end is nigh and certain.
Always wanted to be a seasoned veteran.
Funnily, I had never pictured it this way.
I always thought the forks after deaths were metaphoric.
Sort of like choosing between heaven and hell and all?
Heat of the moment taking over as I lose my nerve.
Obviously I had never anticipated things to take this course of action.
Unaware of all of these troubles I had fallen so easily to the bait.
Together I’d been schooled so many times to avoid these traps and stay safe.
Oversight of a small sign, and I’m fighting for my life as the smoke rises.
Fighting for my breath even against my will as my brain searches for some blue memories.
Watching my father teach us swimming, explaining how life is an ocean disrupted only by occasional tides.
A squirming suicidal earthworm trying to hang itself near home should have proved to be a red herring.
The devil beamed with a sense accomplishment as he held me upside down above the cursing red hot fire.
Even as I am tossed up and down like a pendulum on a pan (which is making me extremely seasick).
Reality is lost as I write this sad final acrostic, one last time a hi from a fish out of water.

– Swathi Chandrasekaran

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