i built a boat to sail us out to sea.
made of broken parts of you and me.
the flowers i collect each spring.
the rusty keys i can't part with.
twigs and bones from all my homes.
stones from the lake in the woods.

we paddled out with our hands
and our great big dreams
i watched you sleeping every morning,
the light inching closer and closer to your eyes
you shone so bright that i could see nothing else.
a girl wrapped in a halo,
her innocence spilling out into the sea.

one morning i awoke
i laid beside you, and awaited the light but it never found you
the darkness had swallowed you.
you were filled with shadows and sad things,
the kind of things that make you cry even on the good days.
that day i stopped paddling.

i sat with you. i held your hand. you were suddenly so afraid of the water. you said there were voices in your mind
and you weren't sure ******* them.

i fell asleep with my hands in the water.
when i woke up my skin was salt soaked, shriveled fingertips
i turned to reach for you
but you were already gone.