By The Creek

Quickly drinking sticky black liquid. Hoping they can't catch upto us because we're not ready to return to work. Another sixteen drinks are needed before we can head back to those horrific chores. Here we stand, romanticising trauma by the creek, connecting the pieces and creating peace. We're hopeful even if we're not sure. The stars look pretty but not as pretty as they did on the fifteenth. We're barely able to walk and we're unable to talk. The silence keeps us happy, makes us complete. A connection which can't be destroyed. Entangled eternally. One day we won't be so flawed.