drenched.

it was monday when she fell through.

it was wednesday when she gave in to the storm drain snowflakes.

bitter, broken, beautiful

we've not seen her since.

oh, don't look at me [like that].

i don't know why i'm here, really.

i just write tragedies. and you.

today, you're an apple tree,

a puzzle not yet solved.

i fear your solidity - let me paint you abstract.

i've never felt like this

this much

gray cloth, green eyes

too strong

too close?

i fear your wholeness, so let me break you

[into parts i can swallow].

and let me give you a story.

this time, you're the sailor.

do you feel that?

it's the sea, it's me,

don't reach too far in, don't reach too deep.

or you're the siren

and the song

but i'm already dead in the water; there's no need for you.

i fear your treachery, so i take in your aura

like it's candy,

like it's a fairytale,

breadcrumbs to something i reach for

in my sleep. 

ten more steps to the witch's cottage.

i enter by choice.