washed up

there's a blond head in my lap,

and elongated body,

limbs, hands.

we're floating on a maroon sea,

that we made.

of vodka and rum

(and anything that's fizzy.)

while the boy with the rats

keeps me trapped

in a bright-screen fantasy.

i never thought i''d feel again,

so scared and used

and that thing that i do

i just fall asleep.

does that annoy him, too?

but i know,

like i think you tried to tell me.

you can't conjure chemistry.

and even i don't like boys me.

Reviews

[celyn]

:) I like your writing.