Your dark well
I found your love in a well, guarded by deep walls of thick blocks of stone
Swimming is not an option, and I find myself treading water hoping I will last
Though this well feels dark and cold more than it feels nourishing, there is still no other place I choose to be
I am inhaling your love. It is a good thing. I submerse myself completely allowing your love to be brought into my lungs. And I am drowning.
I sink, much like a ship wrecked by a pirate’s cannonball, gently falling towards the bottom of the ocean. The bottom of your love. And this is when I realise. I didn’t need to drown. I didn’t need to float, to swim, tread water or submerge myself in your love. I needed to respect myself to make space to be loved in the right way. And the right way never meant love likened as water in a dark well.