I don't care for the way
My words come tumbling out of my mouth
Before I can even sort them
Into socially acceptable anecdotes.

Misinterpret my intonation-
Come morning you'll taste
The disgrace of sober, sloppy lips
On a tired face
In a place you never liked

Besides when you got high.

Hiding from yourself in your own home
I left before you put pants on-
See I have a job
And you're alone,
wondering obliviously how
You became so.