I think of you at 2am
when the world is quiet
and only lovers are awake.
I miss you,
like my lungs would miss air
when you would hold my head under the water.
I cry for you,
tears of salt and ash
burning down my face to remove all that remains.

I still hate the water;
not because I can’t swim
not because I might drown
but because sometimes I still see you in the reflection.

– for my abuser and the scars you left