I Was Dredge, You Were A Stone Poem by Ben Partenay

I think
in order to feel
I need to hurt
and
in order to hurt
I need to feel
and
in order to feel
I need to
think.

This cycle
has come and gone
and come again.
So I eat breakfast
with my back
to the window
I drive to
the beach
and collect
ugly stones
to weigh me down.

Tomorrow
is a someday I
rarely under-
stand, yet

everyone
is telling me
that I have it figured
out. Even though they
lie. And I walk
around heavy, full
of ugly stones
I've collected with
my sins.

If they were the same
I'd be skipping them
across these
waves, watching
them sink, into
kelp, seaweed
darkness.

But my sins
don't skip
or sink,
at least they
never sink
alone.

They seem
to need
me
to sink
too.

In the end
is the end
where you feel
it all.
The gravity of life
pulling, pulling
it's you
it was always
you.