The limited palette of the January riverbank,
#nomakeup #nofilter
just the burst capillaries and thread veins
bare

A tired earthy visage,
still allures the blackbird and wren
who never truly got the hang
of saying when
and feast past decency

The idea is to recuperate
and re-emerge fresh and green
but truth seems more like this molasses mud
that hold boots firm

I Keep being weak and checking your socials onece or twice a week
Just to watch my moods drop from highs to lows
I don't know what makes me look back
I guess it's the memory of being loved to blame for that