Reading
I drink from the bottle filled
with the messages you never said.
Each little word sobers me and brings back
memories of the novels you said with your eyes.
I let you choke on the noose around your neck
because I was concerned with what you weren’t saying.
When you stepped off that chair you hung high in the sky;
now you cling to the ground as if the world’s tilting,
like God is sending wrath your way and you’re ducking.
Maybe I should lay with you and confess the depth of my sin,
but I feel you’re all ready drowning.
Another drop in this ocean will just be too much.
This bottle floated through the sea for so long.
It holds every ounce of you and is covered with your experience;
sea to churning sea, corner to corner of the map.
Maybe I was the one single beacon of hope amongst the wrecked
and I didn’t reach out to save you.
I didn’t think I could get you so far down below the surface,
so tangled in trauma and weighed down with guilt, how could I have saved you?
Would an apology for my inadequacies mean anything?
I didn't know they were choking your words,
drowning your faith,
and smothering your soul.
Everything that needs saying was written on you.
If only I had taken the time to read.
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...753/index.html
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...210/index.html