empty bottles and tattered sails

there’s a certain poetry to

persistent heartache

don’t you agree, captain?

finding myself more afraid

of the dark than

flames creeping ever closer to

my skin from the torch

i still carry for you

maybe it makes me a fool

but i’d rather be had in

any capacity you can offer

than to abandon ship now

and i know the captain goes

down with the ship

but what is a captain

without his crew,

and what rank would i have

on my own?

still so many question

and no good answers

beyond mumbled apologies

finding myself pulled 

between the ocean and the moon

but always ending up

back by your side

and what would 

you call that, captain?

loyalty,

foolishness,

love?

maybe love is too tender

leaves no room for

empty bottles of rum and whiskey

lashing rain against blackened sails

there are bite marks in my

knuckles i know you won’t notice

and that’s okay, too

no need to complicate things

maybe we’ll just simplify it

down to saying that what

i crave is adventure

when what i really mean is

you

oh, captain of mine 

what i really mean is

you