You call, I answer.
I know what you want.
You come and we sneak upstairs.
Children seeking shelter in the night.
You kiss me.
And I smell it on your breath.
You hands find their way
Underneath my clothes.
And I sense it in your clumsiness.
We undress and you stumble.
You find me through your drug induced haze.
We lay together and you don't say much.
Sleep finds you.
And I find myself,
Crying on your shoulder.
Wondering why we have such different
ideas on what it means to feel alive.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
You call, I answer.
I know what you want.
You come and we sneak upstairs.
Children seeking shelter in the night.
You kiss me.
And I smell it on your breath.
You hands find their way
Underneath my clothes.
And I sense it in your clumsiness.
We undress and you stumble.
You find me through your drug induced haze.
We lay together and you don't say much.
Sleep finds you.
And I find myself,
Crying on your shoulder.
Wondering why we have such different
ideas on what it means to feel alive.