The water fell, and rose, and fell again.
He tells me this is how I love him, that I
am changeable, inconstant; a fickle tide.
I want to tell him of the boy I once loved
like the ocean, with such depth I breathed
every molecule of him into my lungs until
there was no room left for air.
I want to tell him love isn’t supposed to
look like drowning.
Instead I tell him the tide is only fickle
because she is moved by the under-
current below that we cannot see.
What I mean to say is, I am so afraid of
losing everything, I no longer know how
to love anything.
~ Kathy Parker // Drowning ~
Day Six #poemadayfeb: Water