none if it was supposed to happen,
no wine spilling
from whosever glass heart
would hold it.
mine shattered, and it poured profusely,
condescension and hatred,
in good measure.

the lies were supposed to rest
on an old, dusty shelf
with books you no longer read,
forlorn, while warmer things
filled your heart.
only now that it's gone,
do you believe yourself the victim,
and pretend to care.
from what remains, no love of any kind
will ever echo for you again.

press your tattoos against me
until they rub off on my skin
we have built something bigger than this sadness
drink me in like a well aged bottle of cabernet
you’re my favorite escape from the madness

Your fingers caress my face
As I rest my cheek in your palm
I can feel the blood rushing back in
As if this was the signal to feel alive again

The beating of our hearts become louder
Until it drowns out everything around us
Is this what home feels like?

You grab my chin and tilt my head upwards
Until our eyes meet
Your eyes are low,
Your eyes are *****

You pull me in and kiss me deep
I wrap my arms around your neck
As my legs become weak
Is this what passion feels like?

Two bottles of wine in and           
Fear is completely out the window
As I allow my body to finally take over

Alone one time,

I sat for a drink with night

And we talked in silence.

I was kissed by moonlight until dawn.

The wine remain untouched.

And yet i went to sleep drunk.

Not too much, but very little
There are very few things going on with me in them,
That keeps me moving,
The very few things.
BIG enough to define me,
Small enough to make you wonder,

If I don't drink, what will I do,
You cannot take away drink from me,
Don't try to,
It's like taking away life from me,
What is life, if not well lived,
It's just only a waste of years,
Well they say life is too short,
So the waste will probably not be too much.

Baby blue, stay between the lines.
Honey dew, smoke it up at night.
Cheering them up, the arrogant boy.
Jazz's getting lost in that hazy joy.
You give them what they want
and they give you what you need.
It's not about the cash,
but about notoriety.
Still thinking of you,
from time to time;
your violent sight,
your Dadá wine.