Spread Out Too Thin.
I’m ankle deep when I should be up to my chest
I want to immerse myself in you but I’m afraid
that I’ll lean in and find out that you’re nothing but an imprint
See, I’ve tried this before but I made a big mistake.
I jumped in too eagerly,
with all of my weight,
every ounce of faith.
When I gave up treading, I nearly drowned.
Oblivion filled my lungs, I sank and sank,
Now I sit half-submerged in the kiddie pool, toys abound,
distracting myself from the truth that if I want to enjoy this life,
I probably need to learn how to swim.
But more importantly, I want to know what it feels like
to float in a pool however deep,
confident that the water will support me, not drag me down.
Maybe I can just go and sit on the steps of the pool for now.