And you

Catapulted your way into my ocean

Vast and stormy,

Calling off all search parties
I wasn’t much for being saved

You, life preservers for hands and a flashlight for a voice

Did not know that you were a one man rescue team

Scouring the dark for a girl who was too familiar with the waves

So there you came,
High beams, shouting, you don’t have to stop swimming

But I want you to know that I am cpr certified
If you ever choke on what society is trying to feed you

You don’t have to stop hurting

But I have bandaids to add character

And then, you told me, “I am not one for shallow end swimming”

I, somehow, impossible girl, asked you to bring me to land

And now, I feel ground beneath my feet
Fragile and certain

And you are dancing around the room

Your limbs flailing like baseball bats
blindly swinging at a piñata at a 10 year olds birthday party

Your smirk is so warm the winter air is sneaking through the windows trying to get closer to you

Your words, the punchline of every joke ever told

You are never not funny
And I am sitting on the couch
Covered from head to toe in bandaids
Laughing so hard that I can’t feel any of my broken

I cannot remember a single scar

My body is tensing with each gasp for air

For once, I find a good reason for forgetting how to breathe

And I look at you,
Still dancing,

And I say

I am not cpr certified but I will give you all of my air when you have given too much of yours away

I am not good with directions, but I will memorize the map of your smile and guide you back to it when you’ve gotten too far
I am not much for attention, but I will stand on top of chairs and give standing ovations for the parts of you you haven’t learned to clap for yet

I cannot sing, but I will give you the silence that comes in between songs

I want to be

The place you go to when you’ve forgotten how to get anywhere else

The best hiding place, the spot you set everything down

And stop dancing
For just long enough to know that you should start again

You should always start again