It's 1:51 a.m. and nothing feels real
I want to be back- back in his bed
He was pulling me closer
His fingertips groping for more of me, more of me...
To one there was only the other.
We moved and touched without thinking
Using only our hands and our passion to guide each other through the dark
I want to be back- back on his dresser
His eyes glued to me as I whispered drunken nonsense
"You're beautiful," he said. "Look at you."
"I hate you," I slurred between kisses
I was talking too much...truth poured from my lips like a dam that had finally been broken
"I hate myself too."
And his eyes saddened, contrasting strangely with that crooked smile that beamed just as brightly
"Somehow you're falling for me..."
I inhaled and felt my lungs swell with everything that he was
Felt his hot breath stiff with alcohol as he chuckled and leaned in again
It is all so blurry
I want to be back- back in his arms
Feel it all again
And again
Because he never called
And he's probably awake now
Thinking about a girl who isn't me
I don't want to ever
Ever
Forget
The reason I wasted so much time basking in the glow of his evasive memory
Or why it is now 2:17 a.m. and I still can't sleep
Because maybe I'm afraid that by the time I wake up
We will have drifted further apart