are you hiding in the water?

Poem

I think it’s you in the bath.

Sitting in the water trying to find a space to

disappear.

But nothing really stills

except your limbs.

Gently floating. Slowly wrinkling.

Physically you’re seen.

Your husband opening the curtains

always trying to take a peek.

A laugh. A look. A grin.

The water is where the smile slips.

where you wander through the very ocean of

your mind. You get lost in old memories and

old sensations. You remember a pain you do your best to

avoid.

The water remembers you too.

Remembers you sinking.

Remembers you holding a blade and thinking of

blood.

You hate blood. So the blade never cut.

The version of you that lives in the bath

is someone no one has seen.

It is the laugh that crinkles your eyes and the

silent tears leaving salty tracks that join

the water.

I think people can know of it.

Can understand depression.

Can suffer their own. But they can never actually know

yours. Yours is a hungry shadow that hides

beneath a smile and lately only comes to play in

the water.

I don’t know what to say to you except

I’m glad you’re still here.

I’m glad you still take safe harbor in

the water.

I’m glad you still fight the shadow and yet

allow it to live. Sometimes we need to accept

that light in the water can create shadows.