expanded

i wake to the sound of a just-lit match;
burning like fire, falling like a wave.
pulled under by a current so thick, i could float if i wanted to try.
and as i surface in the break of the surf,
i hear the call:
shhhhhhhhhh.

i wake to the sound of a just-lit match;
big enough to swim in, but not enough to drown.

there is a fire in me that i meant to smother,
could have kicked the sand to kill it,
but i swear my ocean was here a minute ago.

i can't watch this turn to embers,
that slow burn will kill me and i know that's the point, but -
if i could just wash it all away, like i was never here.
wipe things clean with all the salt water tears
i will no longer cry.

i don't want to leave ashes for someone to find but -

but the tide recedes and i fade back
into the room.

i am surrounded by the whirring and whistling
of being alive in spite of myself -
i'm told i've been out for days
and maybe my disappointment shows
because the nurse can't look me in the eye.

and my father
walks into the room like a cold wind off the coast,
not the kind that brings storms, no.
the kind that sounds like ghosts, whistling, low,
and i think of the drowned.

i'm sorry i couldn't be there.

instead i'm kept afloat by
tubes, force-feeding life into my blood
because i'm not allowed to eat yet;
there is charcoal in my stomach
and i wonder how many people know.

there is charcoal in my stomach,
on my hands, in my eyes,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and
i am tired of mattering.

i search for the call -
but it's gone.
and i'm not.

places like these tease,
trick your senses into crying out
how close you might have been.
when everything tastes like, smells like, looks like, feels like,
sounds like nothing.

this is as close as i've ever come.

i am tangled in a lifeline i never asked to be thrown,
no, please,
send me your anchors.
how can i bear this weight
and still not sink?

i am holding no breath.
folding my lungs into sailboats
scrawled with a message you can bottle
or burn, for what it's worth.

there's a hole in the bottom of the sea.

and i chase the call,
blind to your flares - their flames unwanted -
as i search for the sound of a just-lit match:
big enough to swim in,
but not enough to drown.