Oceanic tides

I don’t think I’ll ever be quite good enough for you

and for that I have to apologize.

You’ve always reminded me of the Earth.

Stable, grounded. 

But you see, I smell like rain

and I’m in the waves

and the sea

and the lungs of the drowned

and nothing will ever make me whole again.

I’m too far spread 

in order for me to pick up the pieces of myself again

that have bent and contorted in order to make room for you.