Your eyes look like salt water,
I'll shake it with ice,
And pour it in a clouded glass,
And down it in one swallow.

I'm feeling self destructive,
Want to do it with me?

Your hair is soft
And familiar to my finger tips,
So it will feel at home,
Between my fingers,
Rolled in lit paper.

Sometimes
It feels like we're just a
Bad habit.

But it's probably just anxiety
Again.