Wine was the colour of my cheeks every time you came around
Wine was the colour of my mind, the deep crimson flooding with love that flowed vastly straight from the heart.
Wine was the colour we dined over on our first date.
Wine was the essence of the first time I'd ever laid down with a man.
I bathed in wine, soaking up every inch of it until I was drunkenly dancing on cloud nine.
But wine was also the colour of her panties. And the shade of lipstick that I've never worn before.
Wine presented itself upon the hickeys on your collarbones. And it was in that moment that I realized I don't like red wine anymore.
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Poetic Depression
PoetryAny given rant or poetic piece I write when feeling depressed or anxious. I share my story in attempts to raise awareness against mental illness as well as to encourage others that it is okay to struggle, and that you are not alone.
