Learning How to Swim

I breathe,

but the air is too thick.

I feel the water breaching my lungs,

the salt tearing at the tissue.

I have found myself

at the bottom of an ocean

fastened together with unshed tears

and wounded hearts.

I inhale,

but I forget what breathing feels like.

I cannot take my eyes

from that sealed vial,

its contents once living and loving.

Why can't this urn stay closed?

Why can't we keep her forever?