Oh, hope
make your mess again.

Hope
don't keep asking more of me
than I'm willing to give.

Forreal tho,
I was in trouble before the boat sunk
and the drowned
finally let loose their blood
in bouyant droplets.

Because I was a little boy,
on the ship,
and you came in to my room,
and laid beside me
with a watermelon smell in your barrettes,
and a "I'm forever"
in your  siuking voice,
as the ship tipped.

So much of me shrieks;
you make me.