“

Ever since I can remember, I have been dry as a desert. When I met you, I swore I could drown in you. I never knew what it was like to be drenched, to not feel like I was cracking brittle bones apart every time I tossed and turned in bed every night. You washed away the dirt and grime that filled me, and I thought I had been cleansed.

The more I drank, the thirstier I became, greedy kisses stolen in the dead of night to fill my gullet. For many long months, I drank myself so full, I became miserable because I only wanted more. I thought I was a barren field, with nothing left to nourish those who came to harvest any thought of merit. I thought that I just couldn’t be filled, that you would drain yourself trying to quench my insatiable thirst for you.

You were saltwater, running down my chin and coursing through my veins. You may have cleansed my pores of their filth, but you left yourself stuck in every nook and cranny I once claimed for myself; I still taste your salt in my tears, I don’t know how to sweat you out because I break out in cold sweats and you’re still here to haunt my clammy skin.

You were too much to swallow, though I truly did try. I still crave your taste like nothing I’ve ever experienced, even though I know it isn’t healthy. We were better off when I was a sand castle and you were waves, slowly and quietly lapping at the shore, just out of reach. Perhaps we can try to live in such harmony once again, though I know I will always long for a taste of your sea-spray.

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