some nights
do we have time?
do we have time to float to the bottom of the pool?
i can’t swim but you would hold onto me
like you hold onto me on dry land
i wish the idea of giving in didn’t feel like pulling teeth
& i also wish you would slow dance with me
maybe kill off some of that self control?
maybe,maybe,maybe
some nights we fight til my head starts to ache
some nights we act like we don’t have time
to turn it all around
to turn ourselves inside out
wear our hearts directly on the outside of our chests
deep down
if the walls could speak for us
they would tell us to shut the hell up
no matter where we were
& if we could go back to 15 years old
the walls would say too much
they say that young love never really blossoms
that it never becomes a flower
that it eventually wilts
in our case it grew so much that it took up space
inside our bodies
the leaves wrapped around our lungs
they got embedded in our intestines
& somehow thorns spawned
from poor decisions
they prick our hearts sometimes
& deep down we both like the sting
she couldn’t save herself
she bathed in her pain
then her brown limbs soaked it all up
until it lived under skin
it flowed inside of her
made her feel like
she carried the weight of the world
& she still does
no amount of shedding
learned self hatred
helped her
she tried to save everyone else
yet she just couldn’t save herself
Vanessa Maki is a writer (among other things) who is queer & full of black girl magic. She’s been published in Enclave, Faded Out ,Rag Queen Periodical & Occulum. She also founded/runs an online literary journal.