you were always
something oceanic --
pulling,
never touching,
loud
but somehow
without sound.

i had never learnt
how to swim,
but i waded into you
like i wouldn’t drown.
even though i couldn't swim.
i waded anyway,
like softness
could save me.

you had looked at me
like a wave
right before it breaks --
beautiful
confident
but too full
of something
it cannot hold.

i should’ve known.
even low tides leave salt.
even still,
quiet, gentle water
it pulls you under
if you stay too long.
especially if you stay too long.

but gosh,
you were just so --
blue.
and i was so incredibly
willing,
to just let you in
to let myself drown,
slowly losing myself.

And she fell,
into ice-cold water.
Her legs kicked,
gasping for air
that once suffocated her.

She didn't scream,
reached her hand out,
not for light, but to bid goodbye.

She looked around,
to realize the dark
she had walked into.

Fate laughed,
as she closed her eyes.
Oh, what an irony,
she couldn't swim.

Truth is we lie and believe it..
We stare into our own souls through mirrors
And deceive it.
We search for something to guide us.
And with the smallest inconvenience we schuss.
We cry and beg for light.
We love and admire the night.
We lose ourselves and drown in tears.
Then treat self-consciousness as a curse, a fear
We're wandering on a cold boat
With no steering wheel, and no coat.

She sinks into the waves as the full moon casts its glow upon her.
Through the murky water, she cannot hear the howling wolves.
As she fades into the darkness, her subconscious dreams ignite.
Visions of her past and future dance in her mind as she falls
further into the deep. Her red hair flows past her face. Stars
twinkle like the bubbles floating from her lips to the surface.
She is adrift within her own mind. She may drown within it.

As the sea rises, the stern falls.
The moon is my last view before blackness consumes it all.
Waves beat me like an angry horde.
Ropes circle my neck like an assassin's cord.
I take my last breath, half of it water,
Before my untimely death. My body sinks under.

I much prefer the sadness.
though overwhelming, choking
it is rooted in love, in remembering
in the loss of something real, tangible, beautiful.
The anger is much worse, wicked
a fabricator of the truth:
that it didn't matter to you
and maybe never did.
I'll take salt water filling my lungs
burning, flailing, gasping for air
if it meant never forgetting you

I am amazed more
and more
how much the mind can be stuck
in slavery
to thoughts.

I am less afraid of people
who commit suicide.
Suffering is so intense.
It makes me think of how
low our minds can take us
down to where
we feel we
might drown.  

No one, not one person
is to blame for
suicide.
There should be no anger,
no shame.
Be real in life.
Do not shelter shame
as if it is a friend,
a payback,
or a way of life.

Shame is as deep as
******
is the devil.
Deep in an inkwell
Black tar stuck in
the pits searching
for free skies
for air
the soul is not for sell.

And it can come to this.....

Dead Enders

Places we have been to
Places we compare to
Travel light-years
In circles around us
Overtime
Around and around we go
Spiraling through the
self-disparaging
Thoughts we hack ourselves into.

Until,  Sense-less
Dead enders.
So, unthread,
Un  thread,
Un      thread.
Unwind
Before your prospects
Leave this space.

Around and around
we go
Transcenders
Looking out, looking up
and
Down
Sinking
Please me here
Take from there
Give to him always
Without a dare
Sunk and done
Dead end right here.