Salty ocean foam burns my lungs too well
My insides lit aflame by trembling sun
Is half the feeling of living in hell.
Devil's kissing hot breathes has just begun.
If bodies are oceans mine's drying out,
My husked-out heart has been left there to die.
I don't think kindness could quench moral drought,
So don't pity my frailty with a lie.
Fill my vessel with drips and drops of fire
Beg the sea that she'll cleanse me of this sin
But no one wants to be clean; I'm the liar.
I forget, what kind of shape am I in?
I don't have answers for feeling awful,
So find peace in the message in my bottle.