I lost her to the sea
To something bigger than me
To a pull that would never leave her standing
To a depth that knows no landing
No end. No end.
This pain. This pain.
I’ve lost her to the waves to the roar
To the shipwreck at their shore
I’ve lost my maiden I’ve lost her well
To that navy blue ominous swell.
The same mistakes over and over
Addicted to the error
Flagellated by the outcome
Just for a taste of sublime wrong
I sing old songs
I get on my own nerves
So I suppose I deserve this
All of this.
And yet maybe I’m making small changes each time
To the words. To the rhyme.
Enough so that I can live with myself.
And maybe all these little changes
Will alter the big picture
And my mistakes will stand up tall and will no longer quiver
And there will come a day when I won’t consider them flaws when I will hit pause and see
That all these things are just part of me
And that the whip I use to beat myself
Is not made of leather but only words
But oh those words can sting
They can cause such harm
Built of old ways and old fears
Ancient rivers sodden with tears.
Tears that no longer run true
But still manage to soak
To turn me into sop.
To muddled mess with dying fish floating at the surface.
I need to set myself free. I need to run to sea.
To disperse into bigger things
To lose my concentration.
Then maybe if I really don’t over think.
I will float instead of …
My fermenting thoughts, turned you to wine.
Better than grape but not as sweet
Warbling like a stream through my pretty veins
Making me babble like a brook
Black lips, giving you away.
Giving me away.
And though I swirl you about my mouth
I never spit you out.
I will follow you like a whimper
Soft and sad. Slobbering on your shoulder.
You hate the way my nostrils flare
The way my face puffs when I cry
I’m a useless jelly
A wobbling mass
“Silly Billy.Silly Billy.”
You say it with no hint of light
No glint of love.
You have nothing else to say.
And I have nowhere else to go.
I’m on a rampage of your soul
I want it all.
Every sliver and quiver of its ethereal light.
If I breathe deeply enough I can swallow it whole
Capture it in the dungeons of my own.
Is it too much to ask that you let me be host?
To that which you cling onto the most?
You’re not really a rebel, are you?
With your skull tattoos and lost soul vibe.
You sit on a bike that you can’t ride
You smoke pot all the time so you can’t drive.
You walk with a swagger but have no sway
Your ridiculous stories give you away
Your ‘live in the moment’ constant retort
Although you really do nothing of the sort.
You like heavy-metal fine.. ok
You over insist that you’re not ‘gay’
You’re mean though
I’ll give you that.
Shut me out of life
Make me feel like a twat.
You’re a rebel without a reason
I committed no crime or treason.
I wanted you and that was all
Your worst crime was to pretend to fall
You’re full of crap and rather crass
You’re really not a good.. bad-ass.