When I am drowning

the rest of the world is swimming.

My lifeboat is five thousand miles away.

I reach out to her.

I am not made from stretched out limbs.

Curved spine.

Hunched never straight.

My limbs only wrap around

bent knees to chest

when I am

trapped.

The feeling of being trapped is like a white room.

It appears expansive and enveloping all at once.

If I let myself get swallowed

by this absence

of color,

wouldn't I form a black hole?

The scars on my right knee

are in the same spots

my mom hit

a brick wall.

Have I ever told you,

your freckles on your cheeks

are constellations.

They align with one another

and disappear

when the sun comes out.

If you let yourself get swallowed

by the salt water,

remember my life boat

is made from skin and bones

too.