Before I met him, I lived underwater,
A sea of chaos, a storm to slaughter.
Each breath was a battle, each stroke in vain,
A silent war with an endless pain.

Then he arrived, like light on the tide,
Clarity cutting through where shadows abide.
A life raft extended, his hand to my own,
For the first time, it felt I wasn’t alone.

He was the stillness my storms couldn’t shake,
A mirror of truths I feared to face.
His voice was the anchor I craved to stay,
Yet his gaze lingered elsewhere, a fragile sway.

For she was the current pulling him near,
And I, just the waters he learned to clear.
The day he chose her, the raft pulled away,
And I sank, unmoored, into endless gray.

Now my mind’s a swamp of tangled debris,
The echoes of clarity haunting me.
What once was a beacon now clouds my view,
A love that drowned me, though it felt true.

Yet somewhere beneath this murky despair,
The memory lingers, gasping for air.
One day, perhaps, I’ll rise and float free,
No longer his waters—just wholly me.