a swimming pool somewhere in san francisco.

They wanted to drown.

Not for the selfish ambition of death,

But for the waves catharsis that follow.

Cool droplets to blend with tears;

Not sad ones, but the hot, burning kind.

The tears that leave searing reds and bruises of


They’re blue.

They’re soul drowned in the swimming pool with blue;

For blue is complacency, and nothingness, close enough to

Death without truly dying. Yet the tears, the singeing tears,

Made them lavender.  

The color not quite lilac because they were completely alone,

Drowning in the swimming pool, for their thoughts, the blue,

Were drowning too.


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