Vices

A quiet bitterness it settles on my tongue
Its warmth lays my eyes closed
The tint of music colours, the mind of mine
And hint of sugar kisses bitten lips.

A drink of acquired appreciation.
The bad deeds that begin with good intentions,
Begin on nights like these, where warmth
And bitterness rule the darkness of
My mind and heart and lungs.

A curl of smoke caresses cheeks,
Caresses eyes and prickles at the teeth
It plays with air above my head
And settles on cracked skin.

My love is constant and desire flexing
Yet some needs grip and don't let go.

It's minus 15 outside.
Snow piles are over a metre high.
The stories of Russian drinking may not be exaggerated.

As for my faithfull but hope losing friends, I do hope to surface some time soon. Well, soonish. I'll certainly will be in the real world - if I'm still alive then - around middle of June. However hopefully sooner. Very much sooner.

Just don't expect miracles. But I will try.

(Also, Aussies, some of you may get a suprise soon *giggle*)

(I may be a tad tipsy, just a tad.)

Oh, yes:

Happy New Year!!!

EDIT: It snowed in London, so my flight was canceled so... am still in Russia. (But my school is also closed, and only one person managed to get to Andrews work)