we howl like
thirsty wolves
in the back
of your truck
trying to feed our
appetite with
sweaty limbs and
i love yous.

aroma of fries
sticky booths and
awkward conversations.

what makes you smile?
is it the sound of
my voice or
the way i make
fun of myself?

you lie
as you take my hand
and tell me i’m not
broken.

i gazed past the darkness
into glossy blue eyes
and i knew
that your lips were meant
to be mine.

blue gatorade can’t
erase the potent taste
of cheap ***** but
it makes your lips
taste like ecstasy
transporting me to
a world where i’m
not broken, and
i’m not afraid
to love you.

i want to have
your babies.it’s true.
drunk words.
sober thoughts.
You smile or maybe cringe.

not enough love
in my world.
not enough time
with you.
but what do I know
in a liquor infused
state of mind?

it’s easier to
get mad over
the mundane things
like you taking ten
seconds instead of five
to answer what chain
restaurant you want
to eat at
then to accept the
crippling pain that
i miss you even
though you’re not
yet gone.

he was her sun
illuminating her life
in her darkest
moments.
saving her
from an eternity
of black.

i whisper
“i trust you”
as you throw me
down and erase
my pain one
****** at a time.

your smile
is like a
thousand shots of
whiskey
drowning my anxiety.