I drowned a little yesterday,
The big brown eyes invited me to swim.
I caught my breath and dove in,
My knees weakened by the clash of red and black.
Tensed and ready for the onslaught,
I placed all my trust in the youthful face.
Expecting nothing but the world to be put to rights.
A little release, soft yet painful.
Like removing a splinter but leaving the cut.
Will I heal over the cut like always?
Will she dig it out and cut deeper to heal better?
Therapy is not for the weak,
But living is.
;