I loved you—

like lungs love air.

Desperate,

Automatic,

blind.

But you were the sea.

Still

beautiful.

cold.

And i dove in 

thinking love could warm

what time had frozen shut

At first,

It was gentle.

Your words like the ripples

stroking my skin.

A promise, maybe.

A maybe that felt like yes.

So I gave.

And gave.

And gave.

Each gesture— a breath I held.

Each silence—

A tide that pulled.

I kicked harder.

Smiled wider.

Offered every ounce of me 

just to float in your orbit.

But the more I tried,

the more i sank.

And the more you watched—

from the sore,

feet dry,

eyes dry,

heart

dry.

Down here,

the water is thick with quiet.

It hums like regret.

It cradles to every failed attempt

to matter to you.

Every time I said, 

“Im fine”

but meant

“im drowning and you wont dive to save me.”

I reach,

but it’s like kissing air underwater—

Nothing holds.

Nothing stays.

Not even hope.

They say drowning is peaceful,

at the end.

I say it’s loving you.

Because you don’t die all at once—

you just forget,

what breathing feels like

before you mistook an ocean

for a heart.