Oh,
The lessons that we learn at the bottom of a bottle.
Desperately 'loving,'
Attention starved,
Clinging to closeness,
'Memories.'
Blurry drunken happenings.
Escapism at it's finest.
Take these strangers,
Call them friends and lovers.
Lace these nights,
With flings and fleeting things.
And,
Pictures you just want to earase
The next morning.
But,
If we're being more honest,
The truth is I'd rather not be.
And between you, me and the buzz we've got going,
This can be real for just tonight.
And by the time we wake up tomorrow,
Sleep will have made it feel like a dream.
That,
We can live with.
Even though, it still leaves me empty.
I'd never admit that once I'm sober.
Because by then,
That poison-honesty-serum,
Will have worn off.