I Don’t Mind

I am fishcaught
mouthhooked
(I should have learned to keep mine shut)
on the barbed bits of you
that have always,
always
lured me.
Now I gasp,
out of of breath,
suffocating in your grasp.
Only I couldn’t bear it
if you let me go.
You caught me —
now it’s your responsibility
to hold on,
until it’s over,
one way
or another.
I’ll learn to walk on land,
or I’ll lay down
and die on it.
Just so long as I’m near you,
I don’t mind.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.