Narcotics decorate my insides
like the lights stuck around my ceiling.
The drinks don't wash away
the wrong doings,
the drinks only ease
the intensity of the flashbacks.
The smoke will never blind me,
the fog will forever be inviting,
and I want to disappear so badly.
- Soak Me in Bleach and Flick On a Lighter
YOU ARE READING
Bodies in My Closet
PoetryAnother attempt, perhaps another failure. no. 1 #spilledink 11.05.2024 no. 1 #unloving 11.05.2024
