You wish you could breathe under this water. You wish it wouldn't fill your lungs and suffocate. You hope that it'll be a bit clearer as you duck under again. You pray for rain.
The undertow is a vicious little thing, so won't you shake off your anchor, and all that's hindering, and come up for air, meet me on the shoreline. I will be waiting. Put your feet on solid ground. It's better up here, trust me, it's better where you can breathe.
You're trying to grow skin between your fingers. You're trying to grow scales over your eyes. Your pupils won't dilate enough for you to see here. You need the light.
It won't take long for your lungs to give out. You clutch your neck, try to catch your breath.