Caring.

I had been desperately
seeking
human interaction, like a wanted ad, in all the wrong places
with not enough words and too many ways that 
what
I was saying could be misinterpreted to mean I just wanted a 
body with no need to care about me. 
When what I so desperately needed
turned out to be a person who cared enough to know
that I was sinking. 
Sinking in a non-obvious way, a way in which
I am holding onto a raft and repeating that I’m fine
but the raft has a leak and
I won’t tell anyone that my drowning 
is imminent, and
scary and
real. 

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