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The way the person in control never gets what they desire. |
| Bumped heads and the embarrassed fall into you. You smile politely and wipe the hair out your lover’s face. And she’ll look up at you and laugh in some awkward drunken state. Humming on about nothing. Her veins run clear with vodka, and the blood thickens around your throat; I’ll choke over you. But she wont need saving; If there is no such thing. She presses a warm hand against your chest, If she was to mean it with every finger tip. You could feel it melt. And everything would ease. Except, If you line up like soldiers Your in the front line of a Daily war over her; Battling for the enemy. But this perusal Is more like lambs to the slaughter, When her lie is his version of honesty. You could over dose on this, on liquor and a single promise Never to give up. |