A bit to drink.
Do the blind leave the porch light on for their stumbling lovers? Does the world ever stop turning for a single moment of a teenage sunset? Claws nervously ripping into dreams clearly marked with an expiration date. Questions wilt into boring answers. Its just another beer to swallow one last fear. Your mouth looks like a steeple. A nest of red and white. The desperate elegy of an adolescent zipper. Everyone i can remeber is probably trying to forget. I apologize even though i can see reluctance in those traitor eyes. Suburban bliss, hit or miss. We grew up too fast and the drugs just won't last. My eyebrows arch into quiet pleas of toast on the breakfast table. And a beloved, broken bottle between my legs.
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