I can't risk it
I won't let myself
Put myself through all that **** again
I won't.
What?
You don't believe me?
...
It's how I look at you, isn't it.
The hope.
I didn't think it would show so plainly on my face.
Never wanted it to.
I suppose now that is has you expect me to explain myself
I refuse.
well, maybe just a little.
I parallel myself to the man who drowns on a boat in a freshwater lake
Surrounded by love
And somehow distanced from it.
I have grown to slap the hand that reaches for the water
And that hand has learned to remain
hidden.
I am a lost soul who speaks in metaphors because the truth would hurt you
and God knows I don't want that
Playing with words, toying with a melody
It keeps me sane.
So if a glance slipped out from within
I apologize
It won't happen again.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 6:01 PM UTC
I can't risk it
I won't let myself
Put myself through all that **** again
I won't.
What?
You don't believe me?
...
It's how I look at you, isn't it.
The hope.
I didn't think it would show so plainly on my face.
Never wanted it to.
I suppose now that is has you expect me to explain myself
I refuse.
well, maybe just a little.
I parallel myself to the man who drowns on a boat in a freshwater lake
Surrounded by love
And somehow distanced from it.
I have grown to slap the hand that reaches for the water
And that hand has learned to remain
hidden.
I am a lost soul who speaks in metaphors because the truth would hurt you
and God knows I don't want that
Playing with words, toying with a melody
It keeps me sane.
So if a glance slipped out from within
I apologize
It won't happen again.
Sam Dickinson 2011
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