Sixty-six: Thirty-three

From the beginning to the end of my name, I’m straight A’s,
And tonight I was flawless without changing a thing about me.
I want pizza just because you’ve saved the best piece of me
but I don’t let myself eat just yet. You even let me smoke,
disposing of the ash while I burn, guilty, shy and optimistic.

I’m buzzing, flying through this unexpected test and I know
it but I’m still scared.  Especially when, thirsty, I put down
the glass I didn’t know was empty and you picked it up and
filled it up without breaking your conversation.

We’re divided by videos and brought together by ice-cream.
You feed me and no one says a word and I think, this must be
good but what if they’re just used to you sharing yourself?

On the way home, the moon hangs like a slice of lemon and
I realise I haven’t had a drink tonight but I don’t feel sober.

I’m in trouble.


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

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