I'm typing in lowercase letters but dreaming in capitals.

i'm swallowing pills and alcohol to numb the pain hoping for solitude in a bottle.
you're cute, i think?
sitting over there at the bar staring at me like i could be someone you want to get to know.
you're cute, i think?
but baby, i'm just a drunk girl at a bar taking too many drugs to even care about what your name is so please stop talking.

you slide over a glass of scotch, neat and cold, disgusting as i drink it down.  
you keep talking about how pretty my eyes are and how cute my hair is and where'd i get that nice dress and why is a cute girl like you at a bar all alone.
please... stop talking.

your hand is creeping up my thigh, and I'm too numb to stop you
the pills are kicking in and you are starting to look like him...
If i drink a little more maybe i can stomach going home with you and drowning my pain with lust.
but for the love of god, please stop talking.

he left three months ago, took his clothes and a toothbrush and headed out.
he kissed my cheek... he said he'd be on the next train home as soon as he could and left with no explanation.
he's married now.
his kids are cute.
he named one after me... which is disgusting and i wonder if his wife knows.

you are still there... wonderful.
i take one last swig of liquor and grab your hand; stumbling from the bar and slurring my words.
i laugh, because it's cute when girls laugh right?
you smile -- and i really can't tell are you ugly or not?
who ******* cares.

i'm typing in lowercase letters dreaming in capitals.
i'm going to go home with this man and pretend he's you.

cheers to drowning out the noise in lust and liquor.