Every Friday night we
hang out and make out.
We talk and listen to music,
and we know the night isn't getting younger.
When you're asleep at my house I always think about sneaking a cigarette,
but I know you can't stand the smell, so I don't.
I end up falling asleep.

Every Saturday morning I awake at your house
and sometimes mine.
You're always the first awake,
playing on your phone.
You lie next to me,
and I put my head on your chest.
I love the sound of your heartbeat.
We eat breakfast, get dressed, and go out sometimes.
By the end of the day, we end up at your house on Saturdays.
We fall asleep like we normally would, cuddling.

On Sunday we wake up,
the normal routine.
We always eat waffles or pancakes with your mom, dad, sometimes your brother and ALWAYS Gary.
We always go somewhere on Sundays,
whether it be New Orleans, the Mall, or the lakefront.
By the end of the day, we go to our separate homes,
and Monday comes.