i drowned waiting for you, and you never noticed

will you still reach for me  

when others call your name,  

their voices sweet and honeyed,  

promising warmth  

i cannot offer?  

would you notice my trembling hands,  

stretching across the emptiness,  

hoping for the weight of yours?  

or would you linger,  

distracted by the glow  

of everything i’m not,  

while the tide pulls me under,  

slow and relentless?  

if i sank beneath the waves,  

would you feel the cold  

where i used to be?  

or would you arrive only after the stillness,  

your hands dripping with the salt  

of what you let slip away?  

sometimes,  

i think love isn’t in the saving.  

it’s in the moment before—  

when you decide to see,  

to turn,  

to run toward the wreckage.  

but would you?  

or is your heart only fast  

when it races toward  

something else?