Paddleboats

I never let you in until you needed out and then

I realized these walls that I’d let build themselves

Out of thin doubt had turned the deadbolts inside out

So I couldn’t even chase you like I needed to

I’m so sorry that I shut you out

Please let me make this heart a home again

So I’ve thrown all of the furniture out in the lawn

In case you’re ever driving by. I want to try to prove

To you I’ve turned my insides out again

I took the doors and windows off the hinges

So you can come right in.

This doorway’s dark without your shadow

But the only thing I’m letting in is rain, rain, rain

This mattress is a paddleboat; when I try to ride alone

I float in circles for an hour and then give up

And I go medicate myself until I pass out

On the front lawn or the floor, and I come visit you

You always haunt my dreams a little bit

But I love to see you any way I can

So every morning I’m in pain

Whether from spirits or from ghosts (or both)

And I wonder if I found you in

Whatever paddleboat you’re in with him these days

(I just want to haunt your dreams a little bit, too)

I know this wound won’t ever heal if I keep picking it

But it’s all that’s left of you

So I keep the front door open to whoever wanders in

But she don’t balance out this bed

So I don’t write her name in pen

She’s just a melody that doesn’t match the chords you wrote

But I just can’t stop picking them

It’s like a one-sided equation

With an answer that I know won’t ever grace these sheets again

(I’m just) a one-sided equation

With an answer that I know won’t ever grace these sheets again