Catcher In The Rye Poem by Delaney Rose

Do you see the cliff on the horizon?
Can you see the edges crumbling into the sea?
Slowly working its way, crawling towards us.
Yeah that cliff, the one that’s getting closer and closer?
One day, you will shove me off of it, and I will join the sea.
Might as well get a running start ‘cause I can see it coming,
I know your type, just like everyone else. Believing you’re God.
Thinking that everyone should worship the ground you walk on.
Drop to their knees at the very sight of you, begging you.
Open their legs for you, just begging for love, to be wanted.
Just begging for acceptance, for forgiveness of every sin.
But they are blind, they can’t see the horizon like I can.
You, darling, do not save the sinners, you create the sins.

I used to wonder what Hell looked like, and if I would ever meet Satan.
Then I met you one day and you taught me a lesson.
Hell is however far you will drag yourself down.
How low you are willing to be to get the attention you feel you need.
And the Devil is nothing more then the person who is willing.
Willing to be the one to take advantage of your Hell to get what they want.
Sometimes on still nights I think about everything you taught me.
And how I wish so hard it hadn’t been by example, someone should have stopped me.
Someone should have grabbed me by the hand, pulled me aside,
And screamed “Don’t you understand? ! You are a child, stop looking for a man.”
I know it’s my fault, I should have paid attention to what I was seeing.
But the broken promises, the empty two cent words, the drugs.
Baby, they just made you so beautiful. Made everything so beautiful.

Don’t think I blame you for anything, you were just being yourself.
And I really must thank you one day for teaching me just how worthless I can be.
I know better now than to trick myself into things that just shouldn’t be.
There is no catcher in the rye waiting for me. Just boulders to make me stumble.
Next time I won’t be so lucky, I won’t get to watch everything crumble.
No beautiful view, just the bruised and broken body flying through the night air.
And I used to wonder what it felt like to fly, and if I could ever feel the clouds.
Then one day I met you and you turned all my views around.
You taught me that all there is to flying is falling. You only learn not to feel the ground.
And you took my hand, and showed me the way, right off that cliff where I used to play.
And there was no one there hiding in the rye, waiting to catch me as I gladly waved goodbye.

But on that day I did not fly, nor did I fall. Just a little stumble was all.
Because I guess you didn’t push hard enough, or maybe I paid more attention.
You see, I caught myself on that cliff and I and I alone picked myself up.
And then on that day you were not there so I taught myself a lesson.
You can only save yourself or let yourself fall. No one can keep you from it.
And when you know there is nothing there, walk away from it.
Because when that ledge meets your toes, the only one you will have left
Just waiting in the rye will be yourself, only trying to fly.