elchupacabra

Wasted

Like a Friday night

After three beers and a shot of whiskey

With a fall-back plan for when everything is going wrong

As if anything could ever go right

 

Like a poem

After spilling from a tongue

Finding once again the meaning that it has lost

As though words ever could

 

Like a silent glance

After making love in the sand

Convincing you finally that she might be the only one

As if there were only one

 

Like spoken word

Lost in the construct of a broken heart

Still trying to figure out if the pattern is worth it

As if anything ever were