~after Belle Waring
I’m trapped under a pontoon
drowning in a Disney Princess
swimsuit like when I was six.
Muddy waters flood my lungs,
muffled words and cries float
from far away and our limbs
flail even as we sink but I can’t
make you believe that the sun
pinky swore under wooden
planks nailed in place by gods
who owed you plenty, gave you
nothing you deserved and now
both our lives are waterlogged.
Brick stories in your pockets
drag us closer to river’s floor
as our hair fans out desperate
to escape memories pounding
in our heads like jack hammers.
Your history screams overtop
mine because you’ve lived
at least a hundred or more of
my nightmares and drowning
was only a possibility for me.
Our stories huddle in this room
where fear can’t figure out how
to hurt us when we’re together.
Maybe we just lay our lives
on windowsills to bask in light
of promises fulfilled by a sun
who rises just to say your name.