and everything is fine
i drink away my sorrows
in vodka and wine
the water up to my thighs now
things swim and bite my toes
if I bleed, i do not care
if I can't see, it's not there
the water rises and rises till my belly
the hollow filled with calories and lies
the machine in my gut complains
but I let the water rise
up to my neck in this now
floating, forgetting to swim
and i let it win.
----
there is no point in writing a poem that would not kill you if it stays unwritten. this one is for the void.
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