I told myself
I’m going to pull
myself together and
swim until I reach
the surface.
But it’s been six months
since then and I’m still
stuck in this water.
I drowned, and under
the surface I could see the
midnight sun’s glowing halo.
“Grab hold of it”, I said.
But no matter what I do, I couldn't.
I’m stuck in this same place.
There’s dark water everywhere
and the sun never rises.
I feel like I’d been thrown overboard.
But in reality, I jumped into the water.
I said, “**** it, I’m done.”
I left behind the warship I was on.

This is a lonely phone call,
this is the hole in my chest,
this is my 7th shot.
This is spelling please wrong in texts,
this is crawling out the window barefoot,
this is driving without headlights.
This is him, being there.
This is his hand on my thigh,
this is whiskey flavored kisses,
this is turning the lights off.
This is not love making,
this is bone ache
heart break
bed shaking.
This is avoiding eye contact,
this is telling him I should leave,
this is getting dressed on opposite sides of the room.
This is a quiet drive home riding shotgun,
this is trying to act casual so he doesn't get the wrong idea,
this is secrets I keep from my best friend,
this is ***.
That's all this is.