When I’m drunk, I’m somehow in love with you.
Yet sober, my heart is still walking back,
Often hitch-hiking its way from the past.

What deep-buried chest does alcohol drown
and force open, pouring forth its magic?
And bulldozing over every brick wall?

I huff and I puff, bad as I may seem,
But I can never shake my own walls nor
Create a crack to call my very own.

They can show the start but never the end.
Does utopia stop at the altar?
Will reality hit after this kiss?

I once read somewhere that in order to
Know the future you have to create it.
So, why don't people make the best future?

For so many out there love seems to end,
Restricted from breathing after its birth.
Your choices decide whether you wed or mourn.

As I climbed the steps to your pedestal,
I was wondrously falling in love,
not realizing I could ever hit a bottom.

Knocked down by the actions you chose to take,
Held down by the mistakes I chose to make,
I hope that never happens again.

You see, the first time I was shocked,
Confused as to what was going on, numb.
But the second time really woke me up.

Behold your boldness, your victory grin.
Ignorance was everyone else's bliss.
But I didn't make a sound, how could I?

I didn't want to show other people
the struggles and **** I was wading through.
The beginnings of lust, the ending of love.

I can never tell my family 'cause
My parents would probably call the cops,
and I can't hug you if you're locked in jail.