its like you talk to
me like you knew what
went on in my life but
you've barely scratched the surface;
talk drunk talk too much
but i still say what
i want to say
because i dont know
anybody like you
and the ones i dont know
are dead inside.
i want to go home before
i kneel down in surrender.
take me back to your
rusty hands,
i miss you.
fuck,
i do.
but will you ever
stop pretending to love me?
pretending to be drunk
is my best quality
i never fail
(sometimes i
dont distinguish
reality though)