I met gravity in the deep end. Saw that god is just
a stadium light casting for bacteria at the bottom of menisci.
When her hands held me under, I forgot my name.

Seven years later, the water remembered me. A force timed
and terrible dicing my skin, grinding my scalp into unsieved wine.
Three point eight billion years came and went, a single exhale.

One day the ocean will consume me. She’ll claim my eyes,
pick my bones. Then pluck what is left
and bury it under the weight of every raindrop.
I have heard her pacing the foot of my bed.
I have smelled myself on her breath.

remnants of our last exchange
linger in the hollows of my throat
while the words unsaid
sit buried beneath regret and remorse

i would do anything
to turn back the clock
and tell you that i need you
i would do anything for you

i would ***** my skin
work until my fingers bleed from
tireless prodding at stubborn hands and dials
that is how much you mean to me

the pit in my stomach
has grown so large
it bears my soul
a light now lost in an abyss of darkness

if only i could explain myself
tell you that it was i
who cared too much
you were not at fault

i take a knife and shove it down my throat
desperate to **** the guilt of my inaction
it is taking me nowhere
it is not bringing me back to you

i struggle to catch my breath
and finally realize
it is your toxic remains
that steal the air from my lungs