By Kaleigh Washburn
I once told you that I could see the ocean through your eyes.
And we don’t speak anymore,
but the longing comes in waves.
Tonight I’m standing on an empty beach.
And I’m drowning in the memories of you.
I’m learning how funny grief can be,
how whole it can become.
I am healing.
But tonight,
I’ve remembered everything.
In times like this I call her up,
and I beg her to give me anything other than silence.
The ocean still breathes through you.
I’m sure by now you’re tanned,
and have found another girl to want.
I can smell you on my pillowcases,
and your eyes are an ocean I’ve never truly known.
I miss you,
so I’ll swallow the water.
Letting it sit in my lungs.
Drowning doesn’t feel like a problem,
nor a solution.
So I’ll let it devour me.
In the morning,
my body will wash up to shore.
Beaten and bruised.
The sun will rise,
to the sound of your voice.
And I will forget again.
But on nights like this I will always remember.
–
Kaleigh Washburn is a poet from Indianapolis, Indiana.
Diamond Gazette 