it occurs to me that i am alone
more than not
and that maybe
it's my fault.

maybe
i push people away
maybe
i should have asked you
to stay.

i know - you always say - that i need to try
i need to reach out
i need to make plans
but plans fall through
and friendships end
and i am tired of
endings
so i've stopped creating
beginnings.

if i told you i miss you
would you say you miss me too?

would you lie
or would you tell the truth?

is it the truth
or is it the lie
that i would want to hear?

it goes like this:

my toes curl over the edge
the stone ledge is warm beneath my feet.
i tense
and leap
and for a fragile second i am hanging, twisting
above the dancing water.
i swear,
i can fly.
the sunlight reflecting off its surface
stains my retinas
as my body plummets.
the ocean reaches up
and swallows me whole
with a splash of chilly water.
i open my eyes
to see millions of tiny
light-filled bubbles
float to the surface,
leaving me alone
in the dark.
i sink slowly,
as though drifting off to sleep
and am only conscious enough
to register the cloud
of sediment
that surrounds me
as my body reaches
the bottom.

and then there is you:

you watch from the shore
smiling
as i leap.
after all,
this only recreational, right?
i have every intention
of resurfacing
a moment after the plunge
of course.
but you
you see that i have
not risen
and you must think
you must
"her lungs,
they must be starved
of air".
and rather than rush to my aid
for i am clearly drowning
you sit back on the shore
and prepare
to yell
and scream
and cause a scene
but not for help
no
you will scream at me
because you
feel betrayed
that i could so easily leave you.

don't you know i wish i wasn't drowning?
don't you know that i could have been saved?