Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Confession of a Lost Boat

I must confess that it was me
I'm the one you want
The one who sent you those letters.
You know the ones?
They were stuffed with chocolates?
And covered in flowers?
Do you remember them now?
Those were from me,
I'm the culprit.
Not Tim, not Tom, not Jim nor Jack
It was me.
So now you know,
Now that I've confessed,
Found guilty by the jury,
Oh! What a beautiful mess!
Take me to a cell,
Lock me in the dungeon,
Through me in the gallows.
I don't care, but there's one thing that I must hear.
Could you take a moment, take a step back.
Before you make your final judgment, please allow me to defend my actions.
You see, I could help it no more.
To see you cry the way you did.
It was all good, all set and well that I could sit by
While you smiled.
But then you cried.
Why did you cry? Weren't things going so well?
But you cried, you cried forever.
And now you're drowning.
And well, I've always wanted to be the one with the boat,
The one to pull you out of the lake.
So please, take my hand.
Take this hand that has written letters,
That has picked the roses, that has mixed your chocolate with it's caramel gut.
Take this hand, that does not sting from pushing you away,
But instead bleeds for holding too tight.
Take this hand, and I promise to you,
I promise to you that it will not let go.
It will not leave you flailing,
Leave you sinking.
Leave you reaching
As it pulls away
No
Because it's reaching for you
But your hand, your grasp
They reach for the boat that has sailed
The one that is leaving the harbor
The one that will not turn
That will not look back.
Please turn around,
Please look here.
Please grab my hand,
Don't disappear.

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