im still trying to retrain my eyes to look at the streams of sunlight on my floorboards after a night of rain as poetry
when fingertips touch my skin I do not feel fire anymore, I just feel touched.
my head bobs above the water of my old mind and all I want to do is fall to the bottom and find myself again on the ocean floor.
but my legs refuse to give in to my wants and keep me kicking, as the water sometimes seeps into my mouth and makes me throw up some attempt at poetry that gets swept away in the incoming tide.
it washes up on the shore and when the sun rises, it dries my words into brittle ugly things that even I don't want to look at.
my dreams outgrew my body and i suffer from the weight they've put on my shoulders.
but I'm too damn stubborn to let myself sink.
