Wound that you carved into my lower lip
Burns as I lick the salt from the back of your hand
I take the bottle you wouldn't let go
Never thought I would be jealous of such a plastic
I feel the tequila burning down from my throat
I feel the saltwater running down my cheeks
Your I love you's crash to the shore of my soul
I still feel dizzy
Though my lip doesn't sting anymore
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 7:24 PM UTC
Wound that you carved into my lower lip
Burns as I lick the salt from the back of your hand
I take the bottle you wouldn't let go
Never thought I would be jealous of such a plastic
I feel the tequila burning down from my throat
I feel the saltwater running down my cheeks
Your I love you's crash to the shore of my soul
I still feel dizzy
Though my lip doesn't sting anymore
