by Nick Gisburne
You don’t know much about me, just enough
To talk about the accident. You saw.
Perhaps I said I’d do it, but a bluff
Is not the same as meaning it. That’s more.
I get a little tension, over time,
Like something hot is filling me with steam.
It prickles as my pulse begins to climb,
And then I’m underwater, in a dream.
I feel as though my mind was never there.
I want you to believe, to understand.
You saw. I couldn’t stop myself, I swear.
It happened, but it wasn’t what I planned.
I’m sorry, but I really need to go,
Before they find your body in the snow.
