pre drunken mumbles, part 2 (no curtains)

maybe i was bound to meet someone like him.

his bedroom was a live show,

there were only windows and at night,

i could only see myself and it was repulsive.

it was a very cold shower month we lived through.

i guess he'd still be bitter.

i'd be bitter.

his eyes pierced through me like he was watching, i was ever too aware

worried his eyes may see too much of me.

enough to worry me.

but i let it slip.

it was nice to pretend i was a mystery at some point.

i hope he writes me in bathroom stalls

like i write him.

pre drunken mumbles, part 1

what are you?

like seriously where fuck do you fit in?

is it in bed, is it in whose bed?

is it on the floor, on the strets,

in someone else's embrace?

who the fuck are you?

a missing piece perhaps.

have you found your way?

maybe you fit in being lost

in feeling like you can't belong

anywhere.

maybe you fit in fleeting by

and being unexpected;

nobody to wave goodbye,

means nobody to miss,

right?