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Knit Personality Dec 2014
Domestic and warm as a chair by the fire,—
A bear of a spirit in flannel attire.

* .
Strider Jul 30
He was like *****.
When mixed, ***** will fill you with a warm, comforting sensation. The kind that invites you to be your true self without causing impermeable amounts of damage
However, when it is not mixed, it will hit you harder than you expected and suddenly your world is upside down, doing things you never expected.
It needs to be diluted, weakened.
You need to control it, or it controls you.
I wonder if I had diluted him, kept some distance instead of falling immediately, if things would be different.
But I didn't, I took him like a shot, and my throat is still burning.
Her text was the first thing
I saw in the morning
It was confusing
However I was smiling
But then I remembered
The reason why she texted me first
It was because I tried to call her
After I consumed lots of liquor
When I'm drunk, I tend to do something stupid
Prescribed drugs
Sipped with liquor

A lethal cocktail
Genre: Clinical
Theme: A taste of life
A ***** glass is short
yet can contain the strongest liquor

Just like my words
I seldom speak
yet my words will always weigh you down.
Another round at the liquor store
After you left
Cigarettes were the best treatment for hang over kisses
Liquor to drown the butterflies in my stomach
               I'd rather stay with my bad habits
      Than being good to the person
                Who never loved you
Let it go
Beer doesn't go well with love
   Like a recorder it takes you back
From words you don't want to hear
  To memories that made you love and fear

For a beer fills the stomach
    Yet it makes my heart spill the truth
Rather waking up drunk
     While slowly letting go of you
Selcæiös May 26
my days are feeling colder,
even with all this liquor

biting my lip is my catharsis
but the blood’s been tasting extra bitter

all this raining in the darkness
has been causing me to shiver

don't understand why though
because we’ve long since past winter
Kitt Apr 13
she drinks in his kisses like sips of liquor
more potent than the champagne he pours into her mouth
bubbles rising within her

her vision dips
he gives another sip
her gaze drops
like ***** on the rocks

he's in his feelings now
his temper flares
her wrists are bare
the game goes on

the dance gets sloppier
as the floor gives way
they fall through to the mattress
his arms around her

anger fuels passion from long ago
pulsing his blood
the lights are low and red
there's a heat in the night that burns

there is no more dancing
the steps have turned to caresses
drunk on romance
she breaks the lock on her pants

and by morning she is alone with her hangover
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