I have always been honest
except for the times when I have to obscure
emotions into lines like these.
The amount of poems I have written
are also the number of times I lied
by fitting half truths into shells
of acceptable excuses.
We both know my words are dead
Bodies at the bottom of the lake
Without soul, without ships to anchor with.
They stare back at me, eyes without light
I couldn’t look away from them.
Tonight, I let the waters claim another victim.
Flushing blood from veins, disintegrating organs
Into solubles. I bathe into my own essence
Sweat and fragrance carried into ripples
Briefly glistening then disappearing
Preserving a memory.