As he stands on the precipice of the clear deep lake,
He takes a moment.
It's mirror sheen, unfathomably deep and dark, stares back.

He adjusts his rose tinted goggles.
The maelstrom behind swells,
beckoning his return,
to it's warm,  and safe embrace.

He steadies himself, and breathes in, allowing hope to fill his lungs.
His first deep breath in such a long time.

Closing his eyes, tight against unknown,
he dives in.

Into the vapid singularity,
He's ****** forth, whole.
The wasp fly's by, unfettered.

She toils amongst the gravel.
Blood eageled by her hollow gains.
Timid, as time slips softly across her lips.

Time slips around open wrists,
that yearn for redemption.
Tracing crosses in the sky.

Hallowed, and hollowed. She contains her sick spells.

Veridian green billboards with a vetitver scent.

But red with wine and regret.

Living on work, lines, ****, liquor,
Queen of wine. My kingdom beckons.
Chic, glamour, shut in, slippers,
Empty throne for a day, I reckon.

Entangled, enabled, ennobled.
Eternally enfeebled.

Endlessly empty. Embarrassed.

Ended.

Cigarette lit,
Dancing embers in the rain.
Breathe in.

Head to the sky.
Exhale.

A pause.
A thought.
A moment for yourself.

Bliss.

Let the downpour wash away the tears.

Wined, dined, not a lady in sight.
Stomach lump. Body drunk.
Time a line of pudding.
Start your engines. Wave the flag.
This cart will race for miles.
No horizon. No turn off.
Miles and miles and miles.

Powder tickles,
Nasal trickles,
Whiskey, wine, makes me feel fine.