I long to present myself to you as a glass of water.

Clean and clear.

Quenching your thirst.

I wish I could seep between the corners of your mouth down to your neck.

Living in a little pool between your collarbones.

The fact of the matter is all I am is this water I'm trying to hold between the palms of my hand.

I present to you this tainted water from the shallow wells within me.

Salty and bitter.

It’s leaking and I can’t hold my arm out to you any longer.

It’s leaking and it will leave my hands cold and shivering.