I tick and I tock, just slightly lost
And I drink scarlet wine not for the taste, no
To silence the beats in my depth
Stop the dripping, the pain
The haze, the glamour of being a mess
The cork, the bottle just the right shape
Slick, slide it up slowly
High thing glass, sweet smell
Pretend you are something else
Wrong time zone, benzodiazepines
Plath's verses, your truths, your dares