By Marshall Hann
Submitted by Blessed23
Date: 2008 Feb 20
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Sins drip down the walls
of my confessional
and lips crashed together
while hands devoured
before they could be spoken

passion crippled logic
so easily
when I was with her
and winter turned to spring
while she drifted away
like a jagged piece of balsa wood
in the oceans loose grip

The days grew longer
the daylight would not die,
and this bottle is evidence
that I can deceive
the heart on my sleeve
but at least I won't be alone tonight
(I can't be alone tonight)