I like to tell stories
of other people
when I no longer feel
interesting
I like my men
with longer hair
& he loves his women
with shorter skirts
sit by the pool
cuddle your glass of scotch
until you feel bold
enough to slip right in
or take ***** shots with me
in the middle of the street
'cause there isn't anyone driving
for miles
in this small and quiet
town
he's a lot kinder to his liquor
I ignore mine for a time
then I come crawling back
crying
for just a sweet taste
of what its like to forget
who he was
oh, how I'd love to
go back
& drink his pain
red eyes at my eleven o' clock
doorstep
red eyes on the tile floor
by the pop machine
defeated
almost invisible
speak up, sweetheart
no one can understand you
when you think out loud
he never understood
how she could give her love
to another man
I never understood
why he forgot she ever
did that
they got married in a
not so distant fever
I reacquainted myself with
my shower rug
a giant bottle of wine
& a handful of pills
I fake gag when they kiss
God, I'm glad she don't
come around here
any more
but I always dread
seeing him at the door again
when I smile
& he doesn't smile back
you'd think I'd be over this
by now
but the cards never add up
& he always hits on me
when he's drunk
there's just something about the
way our stars aligned
our entire lives
we always meet in the middle
again
shaking hands and hugging
for too long
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 11:01 PM UTC
I like to tell stories
of other people
when I no longer feel
interesting
I like my men
with longer hair
& he loves his women
with shorter skirts
sit by the pool
cuddle your glass of scotch
until you feel bold
enough to slip right in
or take ***** shots with me
in the middle of the street
'cause there isn't anyone driving
for miles
in this small and quiet
town
he's a lot kinder to his liquor
I ignore mine for a time
then I come crawling back
crying
for just a sweet taste
of what its like to forget
who he was
oh, how I'd love to
go back
& drink his pain
red eyes at my eleven o' clock
doorstep
red eyes on the tile floor
by the pop machine
defeated
almost invisible
speak up, sweetheart
no one can understand you
when you think out loud
he never understood
how she could give her love
to another man
I never understood
why he forgot she ever
did that
they got married in a
not so distant fever
I reacquainted myself with
my shower rug
a giant bottle of wine
& a handful of pills
I fake gag when they kiss
God, I'm glad she don't
come around here
any more
but I always dread
seeing him at the door again
when I smile
& he doesn't smile back
you'd think I'd be over this
by now
but the cards never add up
& he always hits on me
when he's drunk
there's just something about the
way our stars aligned
our entire lives
we always meet in the middle
again
shaking hands and hugging
for too long
"I'm telling secrets to the one guy you don't tell secrets to."
- Russell Hammond, Almost Famous
Request permission to use this poem