The following was not written by me, but by a person who wished to remain anonymous.
"come over."
"what?"
"I'm drunk."
"what? Really?"
"Yeah, I'm by myself and I'm all alone. Insert sad emoticon here. Come over. You know where I live..."
She's right. I do know where she lives.
I hopped in my car. I filled up on gas, and bought a pack of smokes, amongst other things.
The wind in my face, along with the empty streets take me to her.
"I'm hardly wearing anything at all." That lost feeling is making a comeback.
I think to myself that things are FINALLY looking good.
Something to make ME happy.
Something that I can smile about.
Knock, knock, and I'm in. She was right.
She's hardly wearing anything at all.
It's been a long time since I've been able to hold someone.
I've missed that feeling of intimacy that makes me smile.
I haven't really smiled in a long time.
"Here, have a drink."
We head downstairs to the basement, and switch on some tunes.
I look past her.
"Is that 'Operation' over there?"
"YES! Let's play! Operation Drinking Game!"
I removed the funny bone. she drink.
She removed the water on the knee. I drink.
I touched the metal edge. I drink.
She removed the rubber band. I finish my drink.
I run upstairs and get more booze. We both drink.
I rubbed her feet. She leaned back and moaned.
I removed my hesistancy. I lean in.
She puts up her armour. She leans back.
"No."
Now, I'm confused, but more dissapointed in myself.
"I can't."
Hmm. She can't stop looking at my stomach.
Maybe it's my skin.
Maybe it's not me.
"Don't take it personal."
I can't help it.
"I'm sorry."
I can't say anything else that'll make it better.
I reach for a smoke, and in my pocket, my latex armour mocks me...
"I'm going now."
"Ok."
"come over."
"what?"
"I'm drunk."
"what? Really?"
"Yeah, I'm by myself and I'm all alone. Insert sad emoticon here. Come over. You know where I live..."
She's right. I do know where she lives.
I hopped in my car. I filled up on gas, and bought a pack of smokes, amongst other things.
The wind in my face, along with the empty streets take me to her.
"I'm hardly wearing anything at all." That lost feeling is making a comeback.
I think to myself that things are FINALLY looking good.
Something to make ME happy.
Something that I can smile about.
Knock, knock, and I'm in. She was right.
She's hardly wearing anything at all.
It's been a long time since I've been able to hold someone.
I've missed that feeling of intimacy that makes me smile.
I haven't really smiled in a long time.
"Here, have a drink."
We head downstairs to the basement, and switch on some tunes.
I look past her.
"Is that 'Operation' over there?"
"YES! Let's play! Operation Drinking Game!"
I removed the funny bone. she drink.
She removed the water on the knee. I drink.
I touched the metal edge. I drink.
She removed the rubber band. I finish my drink.
I run upstairs and get more booze. We both drink.
I rubbed her feet. She leaned back and moaned.
I removed my hesistancy. I lean in.
She puts up her armour. She leans back.
"No."
Now, I'm confused, but more dissapointed in myself.
"I can't."
Hmm. She can't stop looking at my stomach.
Maybe it's my skin.
Maybe it's not me.
"Don't take it personal."
I can't help it.
"I'm sorry."
I can't say anything else that'll make it better.
I reach for a smoke, and in my pocket, my latex armour mocks me...
"I'm going now."
"Ok."
