deep sleeper

i haven't written anything in a long time.

my whole body has been on a cloud. my mind filled with fog for days.

i fell into the bed the other day and was greeted by whiskey breath 

warm, warm skin, feverish.

your hands searching for something you've never found before

my hands searching for something that slipped away long ago

and we're both sick people

because you have to be, to be in so deep

and i don't mean to be melancholic

ten thousand

it's the way the light hits
it's the softness
when you and i both know it's all in the angles

it's the hollow feeling
it's the worries
the fainting spells

and

well, it isn't pretty


i've got it dripping off my bones.
it isn't purity
it's filth
i'm fucking filthy and
this is the only way i'm going to get clean