you close your eyes, and you let yourself sink lower,
let the warm water lap at your skin
and melt against your goose bumps,
the stark contrast of the bitter cold above you
and the warmth beneath you
taking you by surprise

the image suddenly shatters as you open your eyes,
and you feel like you're dry again,
bone and dust and wind,
but you try to relax and exhale,
letting your fingers fall slowly from the lip of the tub,
the porcelain a slip-slide of satin
against the ridges of your skin

your breathing slows, and you smile a little,
think to yourself that this isn't uncomfortable, it's even ideal,
and you wonder if the peace you have now will strengthen
if you submerge yourself completely

so you let your body sink further, let the caress of the water
reach your neck, your jaw, your sealed lips, your hairline

you are now completely blanketed, the water
a vast ocean around you, and you're a little scared now,
because you wonder about the creatures of the deep and the dark
and what lies coiled in the shadows,
of what lies in the things you have no knowledge of

you try going completely still,
and when you compare the nothing and the no one
that waits for you outside
to the galaxy of bubbles surrounding you,
your mind goes blank

after a few seconds it all feels right again,
as right as your wretched life could ever possibly get,
and you feel as calm as god must have felt
when he was creating mankind

it's amazing and wonderful
and it's like tasting freedom and the sweet pop of carelessness

This is how what you've been searching for must feel like.
This is what your solution must feel like.
This is what finally letting go must feel like.

So, inhaling the ocean,

you do.

she was tired
of getting her heart shattered
over and over again

so one dark night
she filled it with hatred
and waited
patient as a storm

and the next time it was broken
the poison spilled out
and the villain
did not survive her wrath

you are not my gleaming sun

you are not the soft, peaceful beating of my own heart

you are not constant, sweet music to my ears,  
you are not my winged golden seraph, you are not my endlessly starry night sky

you are not my blooming rose, nor are you the color in my life nor the passion of my soul

you are here now, though
and you are warmth and adventure and a bitter, metallic, addicting taste in my mouth

you are not my life nor my one true love nor my soulmate, as such things do not exist for me

but you are a soft touch on a cold afternoon
and you've heard me say your name in a tone no one else has heard
and you took away my pretend innocence and replaced it with pretend experience

and your hands left impressions on my skin I will never show anyone else

and you feel as good as any misguided fantasy

so stay.