All the times I thought about him and also thought about drowning:

because maybe there’s a grief
that keeps on
grieving. Loving him reminded
me of the way the ocean
absorbs the

sky. My boundaries are just a line
I drew haphazardly in the sand,
and you are the high tide; I’ve spent
so much time hoping I’m the lighthouse
forgetting to be the

shore. And sometimes love is
like building a sandcastle knowing
the tide is coming in, and in
and in, and rebuilding it
every time. Everything hurts because it’s
healing,

right?