Little Things in Life

Swimming Pool

Tuesday, 6:30 pm.

My arms aching and my swimsuit soaked.

My lungs burning with rage and determination.

Tuesday, 7:00 pm.

Warm water pours over me and my body.

Tears mingle within and I don't know which is which.

Tuesday, 7:05 pm.

The lock closes and I'm by myself in a change room.

The tears leak through and my shaking arms clutch the towel.

Tuesday, 7:14 pm.

My face is dry and there are few people in the room.

My mind and face desolate and without history.

Tuesday, 7:25 pm.

I get in the car with music blaring through the speakers.

Then I see you walking out the doors and my eyes inch wide.

Tuesday, 7:26 pm.

I'm gone with the music still blaring in my ears.

Someone is with the wheels, another in the backseat of the car.

Thursday, 5:30 pm.

My stomach hurts and my head's dizzy.

I pack my swimsuit for yet another water drenched hour.

Thursday, 7:00 pm.

I jump out of the swimming pool and walk beside someone.

Our footsteps splattering the dry floor turned wet.

Thursday, 7:03 pm.

The water boils hot and I start to sweat in the heat.

Someone asks me who I would like to come to this swimming pool with.

Thursday, 7:03 pm.

You walk out of the pool heading for the change rooms.

I can only sit there in the heat and wish you to stay.

Thursday, 7:04 pm.

Someone asks me a question and I begin to think.

But I realize then that I'd rather be in a pool full of strangers than in a pool full of friends who are basically strangers.

Thursday, 9:35 pm.

I write this poem and still I can't find a person that I'll spend my time with at that swimming pool.

But isn't it odd that you keep cornering my mind every time I think.

Thursday, 9:36 pm.

I write this poem.

And you are still in my mind at that swimming pool.