Sta.sh
i took you in a glass.
on the rocks, and
you were cold against
my lips.
i felt the need to punctuate
every statement in your
presence because your
presence left me feeling
chilled and unfinished,
waiting on the edge of
a table for someone
else to turn me over
and pour me down
some drain to
somewhere. where, i did
not care. i don't care.
i don't care and i don't
believe you.
you could have your
face right next to a
gun going off, and the
blast in your ear
would never be anywhere
near as loud as the
screams i hear in my
half-empty glass head.
lonely tables are lonely.
empty glasses make
me cry because
someone once wanted
something out of them
and they were used up
until they were dry and
see-through and the
only light they shone with
was the light that
shone on them.
you didn't even
want that much from me.
you took me in a glass.
on the rocks, and
left me half-full
or half-empty,
depending on how
i shone the light
shining on me,
and left me as
someone else's
mess to clean up.
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I LIKE IT.
on the rocks, and
left me half-full
or half-empty,
depending on how
i shone the light
shining on me,
and left me as
someone else's
mess to clean up.
is so effing gorgeous
<345
"lonely tables are lonely."
i liked how obvious this statement is.
ahaha. i did too, really.