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You told me
life would be like
*** and champagne
you were dead wrong
I do not take pleasure in anything I do,
and I don't feel the frisky fuzz of a hot situation.
You lied.
This is dull and dead
Pat Adamek May 2016
Dreamin'
Always dreamin'
Always up while others sleepin'
Puzzle my eyes can't read the writin' on the wall

or the sun that set this mornin'
I said diets ******' bore me
She said fine just go get high and eat what you want

She reigns constant like reality
I'm washed backed in an endless sea
of champagne splashin' but it never ever hits the ground

This self induced imagination
Helps delay procrastination
if I don't get the guts up
we'll never even speak at all

Tryin'
Always tryin'
Though some days it feels like dyin'
to see you smilin'
pulling a cig back from your mouth

I'm just so in love with you
Well at least the love is true
I made it up
thats just my luck
Well, what can you do?
R K Hodge Apr 2016
A glowing ember I once was
Now all I feel as if I all I do is sit upon the colour blue, wetted by dissipating champagne fizz whilst being kept afloat by curved cold glass
The bottom of the bath is scaled with confusion and differently shaped stresses
An unquenchable vanity lies within
The clumps of gold leaf I dust my cereal with has blocked up my veins
When I think about kissing you my brain floods with the taste of the reddest, sweetest cherries, only within this act the most vivid aspect of my mind is lit up as if it were a neon light display
Only within the flow of this electric current I am gloriously and contently happy
Tafuta Atarashī Feb 2016
A bit of love
With a side of champagne
In our garden.
Just a single taste
Of you and I imagine,
I daydream, of such a day.
scatterbrained Sep 2015
I am an artist who's breaking her own fingers to set my art free


My hands are like bottles of champagne that someone shook too much, and next thing i know everything is overflowing; except this champagne is like acid and it will eat away at you.
Don't drink me up like a tall glass of something pretty and don't bust me open and then celebrate afterwards.
I am itching to be near you
I am itching to let you know what it feels like to have your fingers curl when you feel the rhythm of a dull ache
I am itching to tell you that i am not the inspired, i am the expired.
Luna Quinn Aug 2015
champagne tears fall in my glass for you,
I can hear myself running out of breath momentarily,
seeking peace in the false clarity that clouds my head,
the ghost of you; it remains in my broken mind.

poured myself a drink of dead love,
it took one shot of bad love to make me write,
put the romance to bed,
funeral for the lust,
not even death will make me stop,
I'm a mess for your heart.

drunken words, honest thoughts,
you're the subject no matter which.

masochistic, fragile-cryptic-
messages of deep thought,
love feels like a sinful need,
when you're so far from my heart.
Poetria Jul 2015
Her eyes so bright;
Do you ever wonder where the sun goes at night?

The rain, dancing on the pavement
in no specific arrangement.

Luminous flames eat away at sharp skewers,
Her eyes silver-grey, clashing with the tables of steel.

Barbecue roasting, impaled through the middle
The pain paled in comparison to watching you smile.

A toast to me, myself and I, a glass of sweet solitude.
I watch tall wine glasses clang drunkenly together, alone.

A pin drops in the distance; no silence to accompany it.
Unnoticed it goes, by the arrogant lords and goddesses.

Pick a flower, compliment her hair; devil may care.
She's walking away, I tell her 'Ma'am, have a nice day'

Left alone to stumble back home,
sipping champagne royally; Mockery.

Spilling champagne and it swirls down the drain
I tilt my head back, laughing carelessly all the way.
Devashish Kumar Jun 2015
“What’s your favourite drink?
Really old scotch or champagne.”
“Nah!
Her wet lips.”
13 words
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