Black. I let it take me.
No skipping carefree from the oily sea that seeps into the dry cracks of my bones, putrid warm.
Its diamond crests scooped and closed in that sculpted box
Saved and safe, my happy place
Our laughter trapped inside, a grotesque musical box for the insane.
The scent of seawater heavy on the tarnished rouge, one day it will make us rich.
Cold sweat on my limbs as down and deep, snippets on loop, a purgatory preacher
He’s there and the weight of my sin is heavier than ever
The heavy woolen cloak smothers me its fibers cloying at my clammy skin
And my choking promises amount to nothing
Sometimes there is mercy, a pardoning but often not, not today.
Black. I let it take me.