I will learn how to swim.
I will steady my breaths and relax my aching chest,
my hands cupping the water in a loving embrace.
The rough waves will not frighten me away,
I will view them as inviting to splash in.

I will learn how to ease my arms
and kick my legs through powerful torrents,
not stopping even when crashes of blue stake me,
even when the pain runs throbbing through my body.

I will learn how to conquer the storm
and be one with the fish,
unafraid and invincible
through the sharp broken shells,
swimming towards the light of the underneath corals.
I will pass ships with pride and be brave enough to close my eyes,
using the sea as my resting pillow.

I will learn how to swim.
And against the waves I will win.

You shut down as I speak, and my wasted words fall like sand.
You got me swimming across seas, but I still can't get across to you.
Trying so hard to swim against the tide, but I'm getting tired.
Oceans begin to spill from my eyes and I am drowning in myself,
Sinking into unknown depths with my pain.

-Rebecca Cerrone

I tried to drown you from
my thoughts last night.
Me, and a bottle of gin.
I do this every night
until the taste of your love
no longer lingers on my tongue.
I keep doing this.
I keep failing.
And every morning,
You learn to swim.

They told me to listen to the raindrops,
And how they beat pitter-patter on the rooftops.
But there is no rooftop on this broken home.
And rain doesn’t “pitter-patter” over it,
It drowns it out.
And now, submerged under water,
I cannot hear anything.
Except the pitter-patter of my heart,
As I’m looking at you.
We’re here, dancing and drowning in the raindrops.
And now, the only pitter-patter we hear is our feet on the floor of this ocean house.
The waves carrying us in any direction in sees fit.
And now, when they tell us to listen to the raindrops,
We won’t be able to hear them.
Because we are now the raindrops.
Pitter-patter.

you can swim.
but you wont get there.
you can try.
but you wont reach it.
my hands will turn,
and
stroke
and hit,
and
my legs- my legs
will pound like ribbons,
stretching out-
unending.

and then it will end,
no longer will I go.
and bone will turn to thread
and muscle to
heat.

and from the fatigue i will find it
reach it.

every bone a body, every muscle
a life
and everything....
everything water.
water stroking through water
combing
and
twining
to
one
water so intense
in
water so sleek-
so aware of every stroke
every turn
and every hit.

you can try.
but you can never stay
there.

As she went skinny dipping with Amode her apple
only her man there with fit of pleasure
and free to chide in their sunny weather
upon these hours would delve heat of summer
along the Dee River so profound!

Hunger or Anxiety?
My stomach does backflips and I think it's Hunger.
You know, the kind that clings to your rib cage,
Trying to **** out the bone marrow.

Well cheers to you, Hunger,
The kind that makes my eyes hurt and go fuzzy in sunlight.
Your never ending creepy-crawly feeling makes me feel like going for a swim to wash you off.

It's times like these that make me want to live.