I didn't know I was asleep
Bobbing in and out of water
You called me out like a siren

You were my first breath
Pulling my chest forward
Blossoming my lungs that have never known air

And in a moment's rush
I'm back in the water
Awake so that I can watch
Your air escape my lips in pieces

We talked again for the first time in over a year.
My heart raced as I pulled up to your small house near the busy freeway.
We talked and sat in silence, all while we chain smoked.

Not even a month later, texting you made my stomach churn,
and not even in a good way.

Your depression didn't mix well with my own.
We should have learned the first time.

I'm sorry for leaving you, I just couldn't be around you anymore.

every day, speak a little less
reduce the number of words you say from half to
ten less, and then none at all.

Don't forget to be soft.
Kiss your mountaintop goodbye for
one last sunrise and descend
into the night
where it's quiet
like you should be.

one by one, pull back towards yourself
the orbs of energy you've left
bouncing around you in the
atmosphere.
be their chalice
one last time
and watch them burn out.

and when you're reduced to
dying ashes and deathly whispers
a strong voice will suddenly falter
and they wonder -
*didn't we once know a ... ?