Bleach Me Clean

When I was little my Mum called the bumps in the road sleeping policemen.

Early one morning I went out frantic with a spade,

Tried to crack the cement where I thought they were buried.

My spade couldn’t slice through the concrete, 

And I imagined them struggling to breathe under the ground.

I spent hours crying because I knew what it felt like to be trapped as well.

 

Every week my Dad took me swimming and I let my body float.

It was the place I could be a paradox:

By that I mean Holding my breath was the way that I knew how to be alive,

By that I mean That I was a graph looking for my coordinates

By that I mean I was a sky looking for my constellations I was just a person.

 

I was looking for you

The only way for the ache to stop

Was when my lungs turned static in the blue.

 

Now I am older,

my body sings when it is submerged

I am underwater:

Being with you is like;

Diving underwater and the Blue is impossible and the blue it surrounds me:

And the chlorine burns my eyes- And bleaches me clean.