waterlogged.

that’s what they called your bones

as they lifted your body from the reeds in the swamp.

they said your doors had jammed,

you were a hopeless case. but between you and i,

me with my too long fingers and too short sight and you

with your hell bent path to self-destruction,

we both know that’s how you wanted it.

we both know that where you were going

you knew you didn’t need any brakes,

you life had already spiralled out of control.