Magdalene

I exorcise my demons in a pool of wine
Pool of wine
That gentle pool of wine
Love letters written on her wrists, drawing a straight line from me to him
She writes her music to relate, sometimes escape from the mental grasp and the
anguish in its wake
Life has never been easy, so she’s calloused and hard
Depression romanticises itself like a lover, never a friend
Or maybe I have stared too long at grey clouds and provided it comfort
Please never forgive me, I am lost and only you can see
Please never forgive me; I am lost and far from holy
You died that night in my arms
Your body pale and weak
Headlights shine on your depression
You didn’t do this for attention