SORRY BAY.

i want to purify my intentions.

spreading smoke lines across my chest: cross my heart. hope to die.

i wrap wax string around crystal quartz, find little feathers to wind into things.

gestures.

apologies.

deep blindsided apologies.

i am not sure if everyone else can see-- do you not notice my rotten core?

i'm not worth your

pity even.

a sad little girl with so much more growing up to do!

the exact same things we want are so opposite.

there is no. more. time.

for church.

for absolution.

tell me little prayers to whisper in icy breath. God's words!

hard wooden apologies.

sometimes it feels that there is venom inside of these bleached out bones.

so many fall, so so so many fall.

i am not alone, i know this. but wicked company is not good company. greasy spoils start to deteriorate,

a person.

from inside out.

there is no. more. time.

to give me sharp bloody tools

for split apologetic words.

laid out in the open. attracting flies, butchered and all too real.

so many fall, so so so many fall.

i am not alone, i know this.

but wicked company is not good company.