My arms flung wide
Head flung back
And my eyes are closed
I'm floating in black
I'm waiting for that hand
To pull me out
Of this strange land
But I'm also fine waiting,
Here is smooth and calming
Not bad, or mad like passion is
But rather a darkness balming
The sores from the last man who tried

I was terrified of water more than I feared death,
From the youngest age,
Looking back I guess this makes since,
I was the first to climb a tall ladder,
I was the first to climb over fences,
Talk to strangers,
I had no fear of death,
It had no bound on me,
Still I was afraid of water,
One day I woke up in my little green bed,
And decided I wanted to swim,
Before my fear would make me watch as the other children did,
So what's a toddler that can barely walk to do?
Give up? no no!
I had my mind set on it,
So I stumbled right down to the end of the dock,
One little leg lifted,
Followed by another,
I was in the water,
I almost drown that day,
But death did not prevail then,
I was not allowed on the deep end for years and years after other kids,
I grew up watching,
Dreaming,
Hoping,
That one day I would swim,
My father was too busy to teach me,
My mother was too sick to swim herself,
Relatives were far away,
So I grew up in kiddie pools,
It was boring,
So very boring,
Still years later,
Even the sight of a kiddie pool bores me,
I did not give up,
Although it was drilled into my head that the deep end is dangerous,
And so is swimming alone,
And so is not wearing a life vest,
And so is walking alone by water,
And that drowning was bad,
Very very bad,
It was drilled into my head that it should be my biggest fear,
And so it did,
But still,
Me being me I did not give up,
I would grab onto the edge of the sides of my little kiddie pool,
And paddle paddle my little feet,
I could stay afloat for a few seconds,
It took me years,
Years,
To learn how to swim,
No one taught me how,
I just tried and tried,
It still took me years to not be afraid of drowning,
That still haunts me,
But I'm still not afraid of tall ladders,
Or climbing over fences,
Or talking to strangers,
I love to swim,
I loved to swim even before I could swim,
I realized something recently,
The criticism from my family,
The jabs from my friends,
All about how I couldn't swim,
Made me want to swim even more,
And I did!
They never admitted that they were wrong,
My grandma thought I was slow I'm sure,
Now I've proved her wrong and all the others,
Yet still,
They expect me to fail,
I'll just keep remembering,
How they meant to tear me down,
But instead build me up,
That is the story of how I learned to swim.

My heart fell and sank deeply at the sight of you,
     like an anchor hurled into the sea.

And then you spoke and I'm reminded of the waves;

You're the sea and I'm a fish,
     the salty waters I long and crave.

I know it's hard to believe,
But I've never fallen into love.
No really, I've never fallen.
It's always been more like
Drowning.

While others gently dive in,
Barely disturbing the surface,
And then relax as they calmly float in their warm bath of emotion.
I cannonball.
To the bottom.
And as love is dispersed all over the other patrons, disturbing their peaceful swims.
I force my face to the surface.
Gasping, pleading.
For another breath.
Then as if i am grabbed by the ankle,
My head goes under again,
My fingers grasp at anything,
Hoping, praying.
That something solid might materialize at their tips,
I continue this pattern of bob and flail.
Never finding a rhythm.
Disturbing those floating near by.
Until the thought comes to mind,
As I receive stares from others
Who pass judgment on me through their piercing pupils,
"Maybe I'm doing this wrong?"

Eyes covered with goggles
Head covered with a cap
Nose filled with chlorine
Body wrapped with a suit
Hands clutching the board
Ears listening for the whistle

Body leaps into the water
Finger tips meet the water
Arms and legs moving fast

swimming.

I thought I hit the bottom when you first left
When I cried for hours
For days
Sobbing to fill the empty space you left
Like the ocean growing between us
But what if I’m just stuck in that ocean
For I have not moved on
But I have not moved back either
What if I’m just floating in the in between
In limbo between loving you
And getting over you
Something I don’t aspire to ever achieve
Because a world where I know longer love you
Is not a place I desire to live
So what do I do now
Here in this ocean void of you
How do I move on
Because I don’t want to
And I’m starting to forget how to swim

swim
through the dim
      abyss of the ocean's blue water
      to become a daughter
                  of the violent and quiet sea.

dive
through cold knives
      as your body submits to the waves,
      you must let yourself cave
                  to the water's hypnotic sway.

trade,
for green jade
      scales to cover your ivory legs.
      no longer will your wade
                  in the shoreline's shallow waters.

dance
with the chance
      of happiness running through your mind
      and you will learn, in time,
                  in order to swim you must drown.

the rain was just a drizzle
like my feelings any more
as we stood in awkward chat
and you can't find me any more.
not in here, at least,
in a quasi-happy fete,
with celebrations halted
because they make you fret.
I can't see my heart to give it
for it's always given back
and we'll stand in smoke and raindrops
with me turning myself black.
the black;
it can't reflect the light
so you'll perhaps not see
that my eyes have turned away
and my heart it didn't stay
and the part you have
is just the surface-me.
I won't let go, or let you in,
not again.
you'll only get the drizzle
not the swim.