I have lost sight of you,
Of myself, probably in the process.
I have traveled through caves,
Carved my way through valleys,
Carried myself through currents with
Hope that seeing your face will bring me back.
You didn’t bring me back.
When I reached for my hand you let me go.
“I gave that to you years ago. How could I again?”
I spit the word “love” and “attachment,”
Thinking they mean the same thing.
I spit the word “hate,” because
That's the synonym you use for my name.
What color are my eyes?
Do you remember- I forgot.
You let me drown; you gave her your hand.
“I have that connection with her, not you.
I gave you all I could, how could I again?”
Her eyes must be a better color than mine.
She tried to kick dust in my face;
She couldn’t reach me.
I was underneath the water,
Choking on words like “love.”
You didn’t say goodbye, but
I guess you left me there to die.
She grabbed your hand before anyone else could.
She wore the necklace that made you hers.
She won the poison this time.
I won’t mumble how you crumble,
She can figure it out on her own.
So, when you let go of her hand,
She can’t blame me, or utter my name.
Because she watched you bury me faster than
The storm that brought me in.