I’m good at drowning

And even amongst all my bitter sadness

and grief

and anger

and lack of sleep,

I still miss you

and I continue

to wish

that you would come home to me.

What does that say about my heart?

That it’s too big?

Too forgiving?

Too naive to wish we may not forever be apart,

that we will keep living?

Is my heart too full of hope?

I’d give anything to know.

I’d do anything just to know

the answers.

I am foolish.

But that’s what love does to a person

such as myself.

I can’t help

but fall hard and backward, and upside down.

I can’t help

but hold you so close,

too close

to my heart.

You were everything.

You were


And I would have given you anything

to show you every ounce of love

that you deserved.

But here we are…


My proclamation of love

is too late

and yours

is unspoken.

I do believe that we can both concur

that fate

had other plans

just like you did

when your waves of uncertainty

buried me beneath the sand.

I use to look into your eyes

and see a beautiful, welcoming sky

colored ocean,

one that I could swim within

for miles.

But now, I’m choking

up the water

that went down the wrong pipe

when you decided

that you no longer wanted to be mine.

I drowned

and for some unbeknownst reason

you just stood by and watched.

I remember a solid frown

drawn across your weary face.

I remember I called out for you

but you did nothing.

You simply turned and walked away.

No one threw me a life raft.

No one sent me a warning flag.

The tides of your forgotten love

swept me away

and I know now that I will never look at you the same.

But still, here I am,

drying off,

letting the oxygen refill my lungs,

wishing you’d turn back around,

wishing you’d come to your senses and

come sit with me on the ground

so that we can figure this out

and dissect

and try to understand

how we got caught up in this mess.

What does that say about my heart?

You broke it,

you pulverized it.


I would still put it back into your hands.

What does that say

about who I am?

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