forgotten mixture. partial photograph.
i probably should have been above you, not sunk into mud puddles
too deep for you children,
tucked into drawers where the dreams go to mope.
your toy. my choice of poisons.
look, and lock your teeth here. have me over this loss of faith,
this bottle of jollies.
the teeth marks are scary and starting to bleed.
an impasse. molasses.
your heaven is on this road because my head is on the ground.
scrounge for oxygen with me,
or finally let drown the only one you could never peg down.