Black and grey, clouds for days. Smoke for my troubles. Drinkings meant for swimming. The darkness is an antidote for feeling. Forget the past like paragraphs texting novels of times I wish I was curled up in the halo of her navel. Pierced lips, idle tongues. Makeing mistakes is my passing time. Passerby dedication in hymn books and born again pews. I'm sunken with the anchor strapped round my feet. Upside down noose. 
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- Blackjackuar, purplechill, JodieT, sophh and naebitnae like this
