Cyanide Ships

A poem about affairs, illicit relationships, and one-sided infatuation. All in 8 lines. Might add to it, might not. Please review :)

We’re dropping anchors in exchange for our conscience’s silence

Trading bits of our soul for a vice in our heads.

Hearts race and fail to finish for all the wrong reasons,

Are your true colours greyscale, or have I dyed you black?

Hitting the wall, hitting the wall.

A deluge of words, strained through liquor-glass filters

Without it we’d fall, but our fists hit the wall,

As we reach for our coats and cyanide ideas.