Hell is high water, dark, up to your eyes

Standing on tiptoes till your feet cramp

Treading water, trying not to think

About what’s brushing your leg.

The whole towns flooded sister

And it hasn’t stopped raining.

I’m not a life preserver

But I stop by to drown with you from time to time,

To remember the people whose legs gave out.

They’re still beneath the surface

Like sharks or driftwood they still wash up.

Keep treading sister. Keep stretching for air.

Down there’s just bad bad dreams.