Late nights alone.
Doesn't really matter which.
Sure, I could go get laid.
but that wouldn't even begin to bandage my problems.
Sure, I could watch some girl with daddy issues ******* in a chat room.
but that wouldn't even begin to fill the void in me.
And sure, I could drink this whiskey,
and I could pass out again.
In fact, I think I just might.
In my dreams I don't have to be lonely.
I can see the curl of your hair splayed in fresh grass.
In my dreams there's no difference.
And this whiskey's just going to help me get there,

right?

That's all we ever wanted anyway, right?
To love and be loved back
to trust and be trusted
to push,
and feel some *******
RESISTANCE
for jesus christ sakes?

Or maybe not.
I'm starting to think it's just me.

It seems the world's perfectly happy
with their g strings
their foam parties
their cam girls
their sitcoms,

their pleasure.

but not mine.