Your confession

I don’t say a word

because I have blood

channeled to guts

Your words these days

churn within

like choppy waters

tossing me about

in a sea of trance

where trails of reverie

turned purple and white

as I would have liked

Your confession

came as a life-vest

Luckily it did

if not I would have

long drowned

in rumination

without

screaming for help

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/churn/”>Churn</a&gt;

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