you taught me how to swim and without you, i have drowned ten times over.

maybe it's my fault,
i never did know how to love someone else without destroying myself, i never found any peace in it

there certain things i hate lately,
like the fact that the flowers now grow along the roadside, contrasting concrete,
but i am too busy thinking of how you used to buy me zinnias dyed artificial blue.

the beauty is gone, now.

down by the lake the grass is dewy,
and the dragonflies taunt me with dreams of diving and never resurfacing.

the water is still,
but that has never been enough.