Salt and water
Have a way of washing up
All the shit I’ve been putting off for months.
March, July, December,
Time that melted
My mind
Into hysterics
I can’t seem to remember now.
You spent summer at the beach,
Camino del Sur.
There I was, drowning
In The Big Blur.
Don’t you think I wanted to let go?
There was horror in your literature,
Tangled words that snatch me back.
That trip to the winter camp.
There’s a poetic nature to being a damn liar.
Counting constellations through the pine trees,
Burning my art to kindle the fire.
You’ve got the smoke,
I’ve got the mirror
You refuse to shatter
With truth-
Baby, I’m still bleeding.
Fine.
I will craft with glory,
The ink screaming the truth.
And I hope it eats at you
While you’re roasting in the sun.
Salt and water,
Message in a bottle.
Ink that bleeds, memories with teeth
And a sharpened smile-
Hope they bite you.
The Scarlett Locket 
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