fishing boats wont tell you they cant swim: poem/song

you grab the dagger

and ill grab the horse

i ask you if we ever find a place to throw it far enough will it choke out its last words  or wait to wander its letters a few more yards, a few more yards felt like miles when they run through the space of seconds

hours that rewind till the cassette tape is back to the start

so here i am again 

waiting on these last words

only the anchor is still afloat

catching debris and unrequited questions

yellow from age

we're only on the last page but the words are bundled up in the same corner 

one that hangs off my iron fingers like paper Mache stars

suspended from your ceiling 

only now there are just half filled eggshells

disguised as something that once was whole

 but now the apple is one bite from its core

and you ask me if i ever found a way to stop the train before the tracks hit the shore

well, i dont know anymore

i really dont know any more 

is life a chore when im waiting for its signal to cross out your face from its door?

because i really really dont know anymore