Cape Race Now Voyager
I'm blessed with a sharp tongue & cursed by the
consequence,
My words stripped of actions, masquerading as
confidence.
Along came your goodwill & nothing but dry in my mouth,
No sense of coherence in the mess that came spilling
out.
I owe you this much.
I'm awkward in my skin, but I'm comfortable in yours,
I'll stay till I shrink out & it's time for your
fifteen years.
We were quiet driving, and I was playing you funeral
songs,
You argued Hear You Me was too much of an obvious
choice.
I owe you this much.
You sat & watched me overcompensate whilst setting off
the room in a spin,
proceed to horrify our company with bile about the rut
that I'm in.
So endearingly the crux of all your friends holding
onto their youth,
To still be held in such regard when every syllable
embarrasses you.
I know that you're a simple girl and all you want are
the simplest things,
And when I'm over being troubled I swear I'll make my
Miss a Mrs.
Until then I'll be the wreckage you defend when I'm a
threat to myself,
And you will never leave your station should I fold &
let the water in.
