Saturday night, Poisonous, if you know what I mean. Black eyeliner, deep blush. Red cups, Music so loud we speak with our eyes. Dancing on the wood floors, I've never felt so alive. Experimenting. My blurred eyes match my blurred thoughts. My skin is hot, it's uncontrollable. Trash talk. Girl Talk. Bathroom Talk. Stumbling, Swaying - Falling, falling fast. Pictures to remember the night, cause our brains can't. Real People. Fake People. Two People. Sunday Morning seems so far, 2AM and we can't stop. 3AM, still going'. We won't crash. Cigarette smoke fills the air - My lungs too. Loud voices, small whispers, music singers. Undeniable thoughts. Unbelievable actions. Incredible Passion.
Remember, the loudest person in the room is also the weakest.
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1 comment:
Bronchi fill with the words we spill
out the mouth in vomiting thrill
poisonous possession of a pill
3 AM already and the world is gonna fill
with clouds of laughter
never thought it would be a factor
when the party ball is an exactor
stay at home ghosts
try to be the party host
so we lift glasses high to toast
but nobody there to boast
the laude of such a vision
such a service to the way we're livin'
and when lips touch
rearrange what we decide is enough
and the choices are tough
~Mourning Aftermath.
Still Love,
Digress.
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