If these texts had a scent
It would be liquor
If anyone knew how broken I felt
They'd say to fix her

Liquid courage served in a red cup
Just to work up the nerve to text you and ask what's up

In the hopes of reminding you I exist
Combined with the sick hopeless idea that it's me you may miss

Little miss independent don't need no man is distraught that she doesn't fit in your ****** up game plan

Here I sat writing your last name after my first
I am manipulated by your game, you have me under your cruel curse

So I'll shoot you a lovesick text
Even though you just wanted ***
While you're onto casting a spell on the next
And I'm still under your vex

No strings attatched? He asked
I laughed at that

As I watched my skin break into threads
Intertwined and braided all the way to your place in my head

Visualizing these strings leaving my body and landing around your throat
While I agree in the hopes of you saying just kidding to the words you just wrote

You see I am made of strings
And other types of attatchments that lead to things

Like getting hurt when a boy asks to be no strings attached
When it was coincidentally to him that I was latched

Not to mention, this boy in question never prior showed these intentions

A flirty smile here or there to me meant he might want to date
The Hopeless romantic in me says he might be fate
When in reality he was waiting until it got late to ask me to hook up like an animal looking for a mate

Prince Charming with no charm
All you did was cause me harm

So when you ask a girl to be friends with benefits
And in her heart she has made you a resident,
Use some of the tact that this boy lacked
Knowing that once you're involved
There is no going back

Friday night
The time is right?

Suddenly you must see me, you insist
When Sunday through Thursday I do not exist

The week end is where I'm weak
Because it is you that I seek

But while you crave flesh on flesh connection
I crave adoration and affection

Which cannot be found in your arms or seemingly anyone's around here
So the main source of our meeting is my fear that you will be the only one to come near

Drunken nights become hung over morning regret
Moon light makes me yearn for you while the sun tells me we should have never met

Advil may take away my aching head
But you have created a permanent spot in my heart when all you wanted to do was be in my bed

4 shots of ***** in and I feel the buzz
Drunk enough to think that there will be more to us

So here comes Whiskey breath and empty words spewing from in between your teeth
Ode to my 48 hour romance at the end of the week