Lipsticks, painted red
      A smile on my face,
              Not seen before,
     Take a big swig from a bottle,
Drink more and more
      Until I end up on the floor
     Finally the *memories are gone
When my sanity walks out the door

        I'm now on the ceiling,
   Though quite possibly dreaming,
My thoughts are far from clearing
            In muddled moments
    I find comfort and forget
             No longer chained
      Or to my own head in debt

Swishing the thoughts around my mind
    Like a good year of
         fine white wine
   Spitting out the rotten ones
Swallowing down a few,
        just for fun
     Intoxication at its finest,
Brazen, daring, brave and bold
           Leaving the past behind us
     Out in the bitter cold

          Frozen behind,
   No longer catching up to me
     I can stumble forward
            In my plastered euphoria
     A smile on my face
I can pick up my pace
         Audacious now, I feel
Doesn't matter how much of this is real

Reality is just in my mind
           Not easily defined
    By dreams, nightmares or ghosts
             From the past
       Reality is in this bottle,
                This pipe, or this needle
     Down to the very last
Drops of fantasy and candy
                   But ****,
           *It tastes so sweet

We kissed under moon  .  .  .
Pox of stars grew flowering,
  .  .  .  Nightshade of her lips.

He's got these eyes, they're so blue oh god its like the ocean and the sky are touching and his smile could melt stone and break hearts but I don't think he'd break mine. And he has these arms that he uses to pull me closer and he holds me when I can't sleep and his lips, jesus, his lips are intoxicating and I get so drunk when he kisses me on my cheek and my mouth and I can't hold him any closer but skin to skin just isn't enough. This all feels like a dream, not I, I can't be this lucky. But here he is, smoking a cigarette and looking at me with those blue, blue eyes if this is a dream don't wake me up.

Intoxicated by you
even my curses
sounded as Hafez.
Rumi was my Disciple.

One.
The people that crash into your life and then leave with  slivers of your heart as souvenirs are not the ones. They do not care in the same way that you do.

Two.
That best friend who gets a little drunk and spills words out like a leaking faucet chose intoxication for a reason. Tread carefully, your sensitive friend just might be the best thing to happen to you in a long time.

Three.
The 'friends' that treat you differently may very likely be looking to get something from you. Discern what, and avoid them at all costs if necessary.

Four.
Those conversations you find odd often lead to more uncomfortable topics. Turn back as soon as you pick up on a change, you likely won't like where this is headed.

Five.
The regrets you have are the most memorable. Figure out what's going wrong and use the same ideas to create better memories.

Six.
Do at least three things in your life that are utterly insane. Live a little more than the average and you'll always be the one with the best stories and the most creative mind.

Seven.
Go out for a night on the town and have a moment of complete reckless freedom. Live for today, because tomorrow holds a different fate.

Eight.
Aspire to accomplish your dreams, and use the hate and jealousy as fuel to fire your flame of desire. Don't hold back simply because others have.

Nine.
Never let the good things in life blind you from the rest. Too often, people forget their reasons for doing things when something halfway decent comes along. Don't follow in the footsteps of the fallen.

Ten.
Understand what you deserve and refuse to settle for less. Do not accept more, because being overly confident is often worse than being under, though do not accept the average as you become comfortable with that range and lose your hunger.

Eleven.
Create as much as possible, in whatever fashion suits you. Cast off judgement and welcome criticism, for if you let fear in it will replace you with a shell of who you have the potential to be.