A drop of alcohol and everything comes rushing to my head, the feeling that maybe you’re not quite
it. You’re the experience I am living for once and not my whole world.
A little more alcohol and I hyperventilate at the idea of you being in my same space.
A little more and it sounds bearable.
A little more and the bartender’s looking really hot. I feel your body against my skin but I feel your
blood running at a different speed.
A little more and I’m asleep in your car as the songs I imagined breaking up with you are playing. A
little more and I start arguing with you.
A little more and I realise how suffocating you are, your embrace doesn’t feel loving and caring but
forced and still.
My heart is racing at the idea of young and free and yours is as still as the mountains.
I want to run up the hill and scream my lungs out and you want to walk while looking at the flowers
on the side.
A little more and I won’t feel a thing anymore, numb at the idea of love, passion and everything fun
I strangle my body in the white wedding dress and walk down the aisle thinking maybe a little more
alcohol and I’ve lived the dream.
The audience is staring at me with widened eyes as if they knew I didn’t belong to the altar but I
belonged to the audience.
They can see the fraudulent alcohol running through my veins, making me someone I am not.
I am not meant to be loved and appreciated forever I am meant to be a wonderful couple years.
And I am not meant to be yours.
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