In my youth, I was drowned,
Falling,
Peacefully,
Into the blessed black,
Of the deep sea beneath,
Until her hands found mine,
And forced air into my lungs once more.
So, of course, I loved her.
She had saved me, after all,
She cared for me,
And told me she loved me,
Her hands always holding mine,
As though afraid to let me go.
But then,
She let me go,
And pushed me back in,
Sinking back into the black,
Of the deep sea beneath,
I cannot help but wonder,
Why was I ever saved to begin with?
Discarded Recollections 