This is mine.
by admin • August 28, 2012 • * Safe for Work *, Art of the Letter • 0 Comments
I can’t swim out to shore because my legs are made of anchors.
Maybe if you keep on singing, I’ll hold myself up a little longer.
You left me out in the deep end and still I wait with lungs made of weights.
Is that all you think of at night while you’re making up your side of the bed because he didn’t come home that night? You dip your toes in the water, you whisper it’ll make you stronger.
I don’t know what lie to feed you while he’s out get wasted
I’ll pretend I didn’t see and go on absent minded.
You’re a product of abuse
And I’m a product of fear
I dip my toes in the water praying it’ll make me hold out a little longer.
