By Emilee Petersmark

You drew a cicle to push me out--

High on fear and drunk with doubt.

We held our breaths, prepared to dive,

Killing ourselves to feel alive.

Sinking slowly on a lost boat,

You jumped overboard and stayed afloat,

While Love and I sank like a stone

In the middle of the ocean, all alone.

We clung to each other for someone to use,

Our lonely souls craving something to lose;

Neither of us could bear to back down--

Destined to fade without a sound.

But my fugitive soul was not satisfied,

And it took you so long to realize:

We were searching for substence instead of sin--

I drew a circle to pull you in.