We drifted far away, the two of us,
down, down, down, down, down
where the current carried us into unfamiliar territory.
The warm body I once called my friend,
who gave her back to me as we laughed,
is a distant memory.
You planted yourself into those who came after us,
their failed stares only polluting,
and the incident that swept me under meant our end.
It was guilt not forgiveness that stung,
as we parted and whether we released our misgivings,
as the water raged,
I can only hope your disappointment
and my confusion has subsided.
We drifted further apart, no longer two of us,
but I am here and you there,
and too deep to cross back and reclaim a sliver
of what we had.
The moment you never saw,
the one that left me in a puddle of tears,
that made me own my culpability and my worst mistake,
for it led to having difficulty in opening my heart.
Your roots grew deep into the same people,
as I cut mine,
our lives fully independent and something not to search for
because it was not to be.
We drifted away, countless miles, further and further,
until we stood on separate islands,
our feet planted firmly in the sand and the rest of us no longer visible,
not even when using binoculars.
This new beginning of minnows and colorful rocks,
an exploration of other human possibilities,
pushed me past the devastation and loss.
You once understood me,
embraced and loved me,
but you will never speak or see me again,
not in this lifetime because you are there and I am here.
While I am glad you entered briefly,
and there must have been a reason for it all, I hope
because where I stand, where I am,
it seems a little calmer,
even though you are no longer my friend.