I am sinking.

With no ground to stomp

I thought I would stay high up for a while longer

but

with no walls to contain me

I am simply too much like a gush of wind.

I rather like the decaying of memories -

like silhouettes of trees dancing upon a white sky.

I am usually in the woods

because I do not want to feel like this.

Somewhere in the radius of this space

I can believe that your eyes are walls

and that they follow my steps into deep sleep.

Somewhere in this radius,

I can forget.

Shamelessly.

---

Feeling = How I can control how I am inadvertently consumed by others.

By you.

Check-List

□ Learn how to speak.

I am no longer interested in re-visiting old warfare grounds,

appending broken spirits.

□ Or else this world will belong to ants.

I had not realized death was so near.

I simply had not realized.

There is still grime gathered at the bottom of the shower curtain.

And we are pulled toward opposite ends of the pool -

I cannot kick fast enough

whenever I should pace myself;

breathing in salts

suffocates our tryouts.

I cannot get through to you

when the coast is so near;

I cannot get through to you when I'm with sharks.

Blue ones, Hammer ones, such big, great, Whites.

But mostly Mako.

One can never go in too deep, you see:

silence threatens, threatens, threatens

like sonar bouncing off reef walls,

as if there are no other feet

pacing over the trenches.

I simply had not realized.

[...]

In order to be this far off shore,

I had to be alone.