afloat

"i only ever write about other people"
"why?"
"i dunno.. i feel like i understand them better"


somebody hand her a mirror so she can see that
she is beautiful in every way

her eyes, they tell a different story
drawing you deep to a place you would scream to be let out of
if only she would let you in
drowning in a black well of despair..
but she hates such poetic language
because it gives words to her feelings
and words are for sharing
when she would rather be left alone

but someone is calling her name
and there is a light on at home

she's too tired to scream
and much too tired to swim
she doesn't want to be found

her eyes are closing
her heart is slowing
and she sinks with a sigh of relief