Support on quicksand.

It can only hold so long.

Without a truss, or bridge, or support underneath...

It will sink.

Moving slowly, minimal struggle

That just barely keeps you afloat.

But then.

There's a point where panic wins

Arms flail

Screams

Pushing against the weight that threatens

To swallow every part of your being.

A rope.

A vine.

An arm reaching out.

Anything.

If nothing...

Acceptance.

The struggle stops.

The sinking stops.

Even if just long enough to survive.