January 07/10 - 7:55 p.m.

Captain With A Lack Of Passion, Alive Without His Ship
by Lauren White

A steady hand embraced with heat,
scotched with the fire of burning passion.
A tear strung along your eye,
a harsh bite to swollen lips.
You just can't learn from love,
just can't reason with the broken hearted.

Float above deep waters,
can't find it in you to drown yourself.
Your eyes wide with anticipation,
reality destined to bind with fate.

Movie scenes, heavy souled dreams.
Could never grab hold of self mercy,
could never find anything to reach for.
Just another dusty poem,
about faded memories and passive glances.

Given up on most things,
current emotion at a consistent lack.
Could care less, but just can't contain truth.
You could never keep the truth.
Just couldn't bare to let it eat you up,
couldn't wait for the rain.
You never could wait for the weather.

At least now you know a few things,
like never to walk the opposite side of the street.
Never walk back to danger,
because you'd rather hurt than get lost in a new future.

In the midst of it all,
with the friction of hips,
your shaking palms, eyes closed,
you learned a crucial lesson.
You must destroy yourself,
in order to better yourself.

In the end of all of this,
not much changes but the time.
Can't spend time waiting for the weather.
So please draw your hand back from passion,
and place it in his hands.
I'm not certain, but I do believe you owe him this much.
You're never alone now.