buoy

bags hang down her eyes

like upside down rainbows

doused in Florida's downpour,

and surrounded by unwiped tears blacked with mascara.

stuck windshield wipers downing

down a bottle of gin

but all the things she tries to drown

learned how to swim.

amongst the sea of filth, she floats,

an aimless buoy still tethered to that boy

she anchored,

who then sunk down with the bones of whales and boats -

too heavy and too angry.

her metal's all rusted because she's thinking too much she thinks,

while she heaves in too much air just to supply her thoughts.

every little crest and wave makes her creak and croak,

steeled umbilical cord bleeds over to her chassis,

and her life's summed down

to dying in some place where time's just a number.

now every morning's a mourning

and her bare feet barely wants to touch the ground

as she scarfs herself in his woolen sweater,

fibers’ scented with his skin.