I have yet to call myself
my own again

a figure skinny-dipping in
the dark, ready to drown herself with
every chance she gets then pushing
herself out of the water to taste air,
thoughts too toxic for her own good
yet she never hesitates to consume
more and more
she twists herself in whirlwind romances,
covered in glitter, sunshine smiles and songs
she'll laugh, she'll cry, then tomorrow night
she'll say goodbye, as if she's always ready,
always attempting, always striving to go,
but then she'll shiver, she'll shrivel,
haunted by loneliness, fearing isolation,
so she'll stay, knees numb and frozen.
Up until she yet again craves
another midnight swim.