...silently i'm sinking; one man crew on this ship of fools,
No sky, no stars to guide it on it's course.

This vessel called Vicarious, impaled and slowly tilting
in an under current that shows no remorse...

Quicksand

cpatton:

sinkships:

thecoffeegirl:

fizzzzy:

isntlifejuicy:

The floor was never soft
and your hands
were never clean
Still
night after night
our bodies coiled on carpet
Fingers fastened

And every time after
I’d repose on your ribcage
Cheek to chest
Eavesdropping
I knew
it could never be mine.

“What made you
so callous, so careless?”
Beer-breathed and backbiting
your retorts
(like yourself)
were unchanging.
“Just drink” you’d command.

Every sharp shot
a reminder:
lust might satisfy
a weekend
but never a lifetime

I wanted whispers
butterflies
breakfasts in bed
Not these straw houses
Not this quicksand

This was convenient.
This was never love.