bogged

When it rains, the world is a swamp
Dark, damp, dreary
Smelling of plant rot
And filled with the incessant buzzing
Of insects:
Niceties (of course I remember)
Promises (we’ll be together forever)
Opinions (we should believe in karma)
Motivations (carpe diem mothafucka)
Generalities (you have to open your heart’s doors)
Advice (the universe is all yours)

At least the water that drowns,
Does not speak

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