My Middle Name Should Have Been Ophelia

When I was only a toddler 
I walked straight off the deep end 
of a swimming pool -
plunged through fathoms 
with all my clothes on,
unaware of my lungs’ inability 
to survive on water 
instead of oxygen.
I still remember 
hearing my mother’s scream 
above the blue blue waves 
as I sank like a boulder,
her face breaking through
the rippling surface 
as she dove in after me 
with her shoes on and all,
and how her crying scared me
as we sat in drenched clothes
and so I cried too.
but what I don’t remember is
why I took those steps
off the tiles, into the unknown
and I never could recall
being terrified
of the silence that enveloped me
in the blue blue world 
that lived within the depths.