still nights fall on frozen ears
frozen hands
drift back and saturated in the scent of my sins
it doesn't matter
it stopped mattering
in four hours water will wash it away
flowing over the shaking legs
fighting to hold up a nauseous body
that would empty it out
if there was anything to be emptied
no longer part of me
none of it is
i've drifted away
tapped into a dish to sit
for weeks
months
saturated in the scent of my sins
it doesn't matter