Sunday, September 15, 2013

My Sponsor Doesn't Find This To Be True

I stumble over you to get to know you because I think you'll tolerate me more when I am drunk. I confess endless amounts of love to you with the clink of a half empty glass because I think you'll find my wine stained lips to be much truer than my sober ones. I order another cocktail just to get your attention, and when I've got both, I drink em right up. I swirl the ice in the shallow of my glass to keep your eyes fixated on my, like toying with a cat with a laser pointer. I hiccup with anticipation, for another sip of you or this or that could make me absolutely wasted. I am an alcoholic for your love. My sponsor doesn't find this to be true. 

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Beg Me to Live Inside

the buildings tend to lurch like monsters as the shrinking sun says goodnight. i become weary with each broken pane of glass i see, tattered on window sills of once so-lovely creations. if those buildings could talk would they beg me to live inside of them, to keep my secrets in their walls. would they not only house me, but love me, as i do admire them in the rise and fall of the ever changing sun. the buildings here, look like vikings, strong and spent. i see the love they have thrown away in order to rise tall. the buildings here tend to lurch like monsters, 
and i see my reflection in the broken glass of their structures.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

My Love Drinks Because of You

a drunken confession of sober love. a drunken courage concurring sober fear. there is a sort of strength that you embody with each swig of beer, and there is a sort of lust that approaches with each sip of wine. i have this lusty strength for you. a sober thought while i'm half in the bag. i stumble in the right direction to make all of the wrong moves. i fumble with my phone to make out the right sentences to you, and in return, all the wrong spelling breaks my heart. a sense of calmness when i am usually so anxious around you. a loose affection, wound so tightly under the influence of both heart and substance. my love lacks this vigor when i am jaded by my conscious self, but in the blanket of absolution… i can surrender and love you more openly and more wildly, more possessively and intently than any sober love in me could ever do.. and to that and to you, I drink because of you.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

To Be The Condensation On Your Beer Bottle

the condensation appeared on your beer bottle. your hand grasped it and there was a slight clench of your wrist as you tried not to drop it. i encouraged with my eyes, trying to force your grasp to weaken and send that bottle crashing, so that I could appear and be your hero. you were stronger than the power of my eyes. the bottle raised to your lips and i willed myself to feel refreshed, as if you were sipping me down the length of your being. i longed to be the condensation on your beer bottle so that i could cling to your skin and remain until your heat evaporated me into your atmosphere. i imagined the sky then slowly blooming into darkness and the clouds releasing me down upon you in big heaping raindrops. I would pray for the sun to stay away as I cling to your beard and you ran for cover.