You look lonely there in the water,
half-submerged, biting the inside
of your cheek; you look lonely, you
know, not free or buoyant, enjoying
your own company like other girls
I’ve known, reaching for an odd hand,
switching, crossing ankles constantly;
you look lonely being yourself,
and for your own good, I hope
you don’t meet anyone as lonely
as you to make you feel okay about this
I dig this poem.
I'm glad I forgot to pay attention to the title
because the title is kinda judgmental
in the same way the poem ends up being.
So the title seems to tip the brim
into the sink before I'm there, you know?