Tired of Fishing

Mr. McHugh use to be fun until he saw my pink heart and took his for a run I prefer to imagine him dead though, but that's denying truth while maintaining a boat full of lies Besides love personifies everything including this cup of java my hands seek solace in, they attempt to fill empty space with the illusion of humanity I am lost to air now, it carries me across oceans of men, but I've given up on fishing never snagged a keeper that I'd be willing to clean plus they always flop out of my grasp anyway just like Mr. McHugh did