When I am drowning
the rest of the world is swimming.
My lifeboat is five thousand miles away.
I reach out to her.
I am not made from stretched out limbs.
Curved spine.
Hunched never straight.
My limbs only wrap around
bent knees to chest
when I am
trapped.
The feeling of being trapped is like a white room.
It appears expansive and enveloping all at once.
If I let myself get swallowed
by this absence
of color,
wouldn't I form a black hole?
The scars on my right knee
are in the same spots
my mom hit
a brick wall.
Have I ever told you,
your freckles on your cheeks
are constellations.
They align with one another
and disappear
when the sun comes out.
If you let yourself get swallowed
by the salt water,
remember my life boat
is made from skin and bones
too.