you find me as i drown.
just a brief brush of fingertips
along the back of a familiar hand,
as water pours mercilessly
into the space between my lungs
and your last breath.
i hold my favorite poem there;
you stare at my throat only to find
your laughter echoed back to you.
eluding my touch too soon,
you linger towards the sunlight,
your silhouette blurred by waves and time,
and i stretch timid fingers to greet you
reaching for the words to apologize,
reaching for recognition from silent saints,
reaching for you, always.
i tell myself i'm ready when the current comes.
i hardly notice as you reach for the heavens.
_________________________________
when i blink,
it's june again,
and i am resting safe in the sand,
coughing up only my own self hatred.
i escaped the narrative five years ago,
and yet, learning to swim has felt like abandonment.
newfound friends call my name,
a sincere song that drifts
across old wounds lazily,
a gentle reminder to come
back to the surface.
i press my cigarette to my lips,
inhaling one last drag,
one last moment of comfortable insanity,
one last look at the sunset from the sand
before joining them in summer
wondering, always,
if you will find me
in that space between life and death;
if you will find me once i reach land.
eve's note: this is sort of a sister poem to "clementines by the shore." sometimes i feel like i'm just repeating the same thing in every poem, but some angels deserve more than a couple stanzas. love you all, always.
YOU ARE READING
HEAVENLY CORRUPTION
PoetryThe ramblings of a woman who spent too much time in confession and too little time trying to figure out what exactly she was apologizing for.
