warm water, welcome. i am torn between this mindful tide and the pull he surrenders me to. it is but a scarred face making gashes feel inferior when this liquid can't reach my doomed heart.
my people don't know love like i do. for this is love, right? your hand on my cheek, rough and smooth, is love right? the ache in my stomach, the soreness your feet's kicks regard me with, that is love, right?
i'm falling apart, but you're beautiful. what's wrong with me is how right you are, how you suffocate me into submission so easily, lead me to demolition so teasingly. and yet, this mindful tide and his mindless pride is what angers my skin into seeing me as a scab to do away with.
i feel i am a child, but he's beautiful for loving me the way that you do. i know the sensational touch of him like you know my body. it is painful sometimes.
he must be angry again. i'm sorry i must depart but this water strangles me in a way too delicate for what he does to me when no one is looking. i thought it was beautiful when i was young. but he's telling me i'm growing into something too much like you. too much to contain like when all this liquid escapes me, too unrelenting and without a sense of fight. too overbearing when i fall apart in your hands, too obsessed with understanding if i'm dying or this is just fight or flight.
so i suppose it's time i stop becoming you. warm water, i think it's time you leave.
