It doesn’t hurt so bad,
At least at the moment.
I am sure this will pass,                                                    
Yet why is there a desire, a need for such a thing.

A lust for a time of clouded judgments,
atop of tear-drenched shoulders.
With passions left to wither,
beside a fear of another’s intimate, most delicate ways

Memories once fuel, instead, drive a highway of torment,
They traffic jam my psyche.

This summer feeling is back,
Though I long for winter’s grasp.
If no friend nor enemy deserves such affliction
then why repent it’s reprieve,
It's lapse, it’s remove?
Should I not applaud it’s exit stage left
instead of a plea for an encore?
Though I need not submerge to find the collapse I seek,
It rests upon the surface.
Reticence,
Patience,
Possessing what it needs.

I beg for a drowning,
your hold to drag me under.
Death of my now, will bring life to our past
Back to that land we were forced to call home,
who knew we’d find one in each other’s grasp.
With our holds in holds of snow,
Our hands in hands of friends.
From our pleasure came pain,
though pain more of the same

That feeling is returning, I can sense it coming back.
So you may think these days were the kind I longed for
The type where I could listen to our songs and not envisage your face.
But that place is one I’ll save for another time l.

So when they call from the shore, telling me it is unsafe,
I will tell them worry not,
I’ve found comfort under the waves.