I don’t want to be your scapegoat.
I want to write on and on but this motion sickness has me withdrawn.
I don’t want to be your scapegoat.

I’ve been in this rocking boat since 9.
The alcohol, the inconsistencies, broken home,
Broken me.
I don’t want to choose between.
There are these two people I love completely.
They’ll never see.
I’ll never let them see.

I’ve been in this sinking ship since seventeen.
I said harsh things and could be quite mean.
I didn’t mean to hit you.
I didn’t mean to shun you.
I knew deep down that you hurt too.
After I apologized I swore to you.
I’d never lash you with my tongue.
I picked my words as carefully as the setting sun.

This rocking boat, this sinking ship.
Scapegoat swimming in an absent tide.
I paddle on searching for a sunnier beach, with white sand and no pebbles to prick my feet.

I’m thirty and stepping into quicksand.
This unpredictability has my heart in Hope’s Boat.
Could it be better now?
Could there be a world that makes sense out there someplace?
I found something in your eyes of green.
I found something with you for the first time.

I’m not in this whirlpool alone anymore.

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