on dry land
The thing that hurts the most is the injustice.
From the beginning, in response to sharing a vulnerability, a hurt, a need for a kiss, an I-miss-you
To be told:
You are controlling, demanding, ordering, cornering, complaining…
An (always unexpectedly immediate) punch to the belly
At your softest
The pain... is dizzying
You catch your breath trying to wrap your head around what’s just happened
And start to explain, at first calmly:
No that’s not what I meant, that’s not what I said, that’s not how I feel.
He's skeptical so you persevere:
What I said, what I meant, what I felt was…
Trying hard to bridge the gap between you
And shed some light on misunderstanding
But like a swimmer swimming against a current stronger than she is
The shore gets further away and the water murkier
You lose your composure
Treading water and drowning in the words
Don’t go! Don’t go! Don’t go…
He remembers that as the start: your panicked desperation
And uses it to justify leaving you alone.
That is the injustice.
Then in the middle of the sea
For days, not knowing
He loves me
He just doesn’t know
My feet are dangling in the water turning blue.
If he only knew, if he could only see
You just want to get closer
Not to grab him or take him down
Just to be on dry land with him.