Hello,
something about you tonight
doesn’t feel right.
I’ve just stumbled into this bar,
already drunk, someone’s dignity in me.
So imagine
how I felt when I looked at you
and thought of how
your lips could give hope to this bruised city.
Buy me a drink, quick.
I need a coffee more than the number of times
I’ve thought of asking for a kiss
because I am a lawless city
and you,
you led the god damn revolution.
What I’m saying,
is that,
is that, this is all on you.
The water in this glass
tastes like petrol
or maybe metal down my throat,
I can’t decide
because I am so drunk right now,
my fingers sext-exting
for a cab home (jesus) before I am anymore of a fool
for telling you the truth.
Anything could happen.
We are two lonely people in a room with
too many empty glasses,
too many hopeful people who still believe
that if I closed both eyes,
I could trust a beautiful face to carry me home.
But my car is here,
if I close my eyes now I might throw up on you.
I leave.
I’ve already thought enough of you.
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