Sorrow Drips into Your Heart Through a Pin Hole

Distance Lost Its Cause; It Lost Meaning to Us Both
© Rachel C

Distance lost its concern for my well being.
The ocean was built and between us,
the land was flooded and filled
with raging waters, dark and deep for drowning.
Dreams come and dreams go
like the current and the tide, back and forth—
enough to make one sick of movement,
tossed on the waves and carried away.
But standing still makes us tired,
wears us down to bones and bare skin,
quarantines us—hearts from dreams.
We’re losing faith.
Hope spreads like a sickness, and kills
just as quick. Leaves us to burn
in our desire to change, and, faithless,
we’re barred from letting it in, from letting
the good idea take us over.
I am left to wade out into the waters,
thick with my desire to meet you once again.
We can wade in waist deep, the river of doubt
spanning the continent and all these miles.
I can no longer hear feet on the pavement,
the cars and the streets, but the warmth
of my body will flow with the water,
we come into contact without ever touching,
or breathing the same air.
And the distance seems greater
in the cold of the water, like a virus
spreading through the sea. And the ocean
is deeper with us in it.
It widens and deepens and swallows us whole,
murky waters leaving no room to touch,
another barrier, between souls.
The water is colder as you step from the deep;
you step back to life
and leave me buried under the gallons
where feet kick and arms flinch
but no words are spoken in the ocean.
I am behind, held down by the distance,
the ocean between us,
of which we created
as if it could give us something to believe in.

June 4, 2007
Author's Note: could be about a person, could be about all people, could be about a city and a girl wanting desperately to get back. Maybe it's a combination of all three.
It Slowly Rises, Your Love is Gonna Drown.