Posted in Blog

Widow In The Waves

One of many daughters,

I drown,

rise,

and drown again,

dancing on the shore,

in black lace,

while the moon admires me,

from the safety of the sky.

Are my problems all that problematic?

I calm the waters,

with the wisdom,

that what happens is temporary,

hiding in the depths,

that I call home,

humming a familiar song,

with lying lyrics,

about how I’ll forget,

someday.

If I can forget, then I have no choice but to forgive.

I forgot how to forget,

long before I was born,

every moment is melting before my eyes.

My heart darts through foam,

finding itself lost.

I have long been lost,

liking it better than being bound,

to knowing where I’m going,

and the consequences of what I’m doing.

You called me your black widow,

because I was in love with trouble,

and my hair was a river of onyx,

that you liked to get lost in.

I never wanted to be alone,

but life liked me better that way,

so I found the loneliest place on Earth,

sinking to the deepest depths,

where mortals and creatures fear to tread.

Why don’t you get out of the water? Maybe then, things will be better?

Maybe if I leave the water,

one day,

I will be dry.

Free of the dread filled damp,

and hypothetical hypothermia,

but,

what if I swim to the shore,

and suffocate,

under my heart’s foolishness,

once again?

Why don’t you stay where you’re safe?

Why don’t you stay where you’re safe?

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