Give and take

Strictly business

Giving and receiving

Love? Maybe.

my heart is a landing pad
breathe in
catch
breathe out
let go
breathe in
catch
breathe out
let go
breathe in
breathe in
breathe in
i cant catch
breathe oubreatheinbreatheinbreathein

Some days,
it feels like I am outside myself
watching my child-self drown
beneath a skyless surface,
eyes wide, arms reaching,
and I, the adult,
do nothing but stare.

The water is still,
but heavy,
each second dragging me down,
each memory a stone.
My child-self drifts deeper,
hair flowing like seaweed,
a mouth open but silent,
watching the shape of me
blur in the distance.

I see the small hand
reaching upward
not angry,
not afraid,
just desperate
in a quiet, aching way.

And I,
frozen,
feel sorrow crack open
like a fault line,
a grief so old
it forgot how to scream.

I want to dive,
to pull them up,
but my feet won't move.
I don’t know why.

Maybe it’s too late.
Maybe I never learned how.
Maybe I believe I’m the one
who let them fall.

And still,
the hand rises,
the eyes search,
while I remain above,
a ghost
with lungs full of air
and a silence I can’t explain.

The oceans know
What goes on
Upon land
And we're  told often enough
That's not true
On the other hand

We know more about the surface of the the moon

Well of course we do
It's much smaller
And there's no water
To add to the gloom

But you've got to wonder
What's down there
Biding it's time
Monitoring the air.

Love isn't a house plant
You can prune and know
Love is a ****
That finds a way to grow

Love isn't a house pet
Trained to sit and beg
Love is a parasite
That feeds and lays eggs

Love doesn't colour
Inside the lines
The ink bleeds and stains
And ignores all the signs

Love isn't tame
It doesn't do as it's told
Love is wild,
and exotic, and bold

Love isn't honest
It will cheat and lie
And you can't stop it
Even if you try