Hanging in the closet was a dress of blue.
It may have been for me but it was created by you.
I didn’t like the color
And I didn’t like the length,
But you had it made for me
So what was I to think?
Was I supposed to feel at liberty to chose,
Or had you meant to for me to lose
Every bit of myself for you?
I don’t like the color blue,
I prefer one of a brighter hue,
But I suppose that’s too bold for you.
So I succumbed to your blue request,
And still failed despite my best
Efforts to make you whole and free.
So why did you throw that dress at me?
Maybe it was best for me
And what I did require,
But you are not my Jesus
And you fulfill no desire.
And lastly, it was not my size.
It was bigger and longer
Like the list of your dreams for me.
But little did you know, and little did you care,
That dress is something I will never wear.
It is not wild. It is not free.
It is smothering, and you, and everything but me.
So I will leave you with that blue
And run to a beach to write about you
And all of the things you want that I cannot be.
But know I that I want to love you,
And I want to make you free.
But both of those things are impossible
Because all you want it to cover me.