Thoughts twisted in a circle. They move around, but only around and around and round round round. They go round and always stop where they began.
Swimming in the past taught me how to tread now. I got out when I thought the shore was safe, a foolish move born from a lack of oxygen.
I will become dizzy and desperate for air again.
Swimming in the past taught me that I can tread now. For as long as it takes. Around and around and round round round, occasionally popping up for air. Only occasionally.