You're a demise.

You don't know that. You're syrup that means so much.

I don't love you,

As a matter of fact I really ******* hate you,

but I need you.

That's right. I need you.
I'm a coward without you. I depend on you.

One day I won't. I hope one day I won't. But until then, I'm at your beck and call.

I’m singing my tune
cause it’s a great afternoon.
All these bad thoughts have me immune
so let’s blow up a balloon
and live like we’re in a cartoon.

There’s no time for a prune,
let’s have a big commune
at least the size of a platoon
and take ourselves to a nice saloon.
from there we’ll hit the lagoon
then maybe chill by the dune
where I just might swoon
from thinking this is too good to be true.

a day of love
but spent it alone
saw you in a corner
but not on your own

beer in hand
big smiles and laughs
introduced by a friend
who knew we would cross paths?

conversations flowing
staring at each other's eyes
a smile like yours
caught me by surprise

left you for a while
and went for a dance
came back, you were gone
i've missed my chance

alone in a full room
thinking if we'll ever meet again
'twas short but magical
till then...

Blanket nights and water bottles filled with stolen whiskey from my parents cabinets.
Laying swamped on the docks,
Swaying to my high.
Praying bright lights don't catch me,
Asking the boy next to me for one more kiss.
I grate like sand between your teeth.
I'll drag you into this black water.

The bar.
New personas,
Rare from near to afar.
Tangling in the smoldering lights,
With haste.

I don't know how much
you had to drink but I know
you were completely out of your senses.
I couldn't quite make out the words,
but I guess even then,
it felt good to hear some affection.
Oh, how terse the mind is deceived
so easily by the false mask
of a bottle of ***.

I could still taste the whiskey
In my mouth, ***-rimmed,
The tang of coke, light gin,
Better than mint,
As my eyes turned three,
Balance broke, but
My mind stayed intact,
So I took my calculator,
Solved calculus in front of you,
Pi r square h, volume of the drink--
Look, Chandrasekhar, Volkoff--
My words are slurred yet clearer
Than ***** neat, more fluent
Than *** slipping in like silk
Into my throat, the blooming
Sweet heat lingers, my
Feet numb, as I walked,
Arm slung over your shoulder,
Laughed, fear clear, stir sears,
I'm not sorry, I'm free, in glee
With you, while the mild aftertaste
Remains, dissipates late, my mate,
Our best most happiest date...

Oh boy.
I may just forget much.
But I won't forget
That you still owe me twenty point four seven five dollars.