waterlogged.

salt water stains on my shirt
trickling down my cheeks
an angel with blonde hair
and a red dress
calmed me, rinsed
my face with cold water
now no one will know,
she said with a sad smile.

I live in yellow tiled floors
lemon, lavender scented
stalls with a seat for one
girls whisper their secrets here
in my kingdom of stifled sobs
sink water
fake smiles
(I imitate my blonde angel’s)

I watched a little girl cry
gloomily, I rinse her face
now no one will know
I whisper; she goes on
I was her caramel angel
but I wasn’t an angel
my halo was flushed away
my wings are saturated

sometime long ago
a blonde girl was trained
to hide her feelings
and I wonder why she cried
why I cry
why the little girls cries
and why we try to
wash it down the sink.

we weren’t angels,
so fallen, so waterlogged
we couldn’t even reassure
someone they were alright
because we weren’t alright
all along we were demons
who hid on yellow tiles floors
that smelled of bleach
(we should’ve licked it up)

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