02.28.02 - 1:11 am
talking about first times, and remembering mine with you.
it was a bottle of wine. or maybe it was two, but it was cheap and red and we drank it all in an hour- forget glasses and toasts- we passed the bottle back and forth like it was a 40 of king cobra.
[[wont you spill some on the ground for all tha dead homies]]
so things got fuzzy around the edges. the blue sofa, your hands around my waist, our faces close and heavy breathing on the neck. maybe we held hands.
maybe i traced the worry on your palms. maybe my wrists fit snug between your index and thumb. maybe my shirt was low and collarbone exposed. maybe you kissed me on the forehead. maybe i liked the way you smelled. maybe i didnt get as drunk as i did, didnt wind up sick in the bathroom with you holding up my head, maybe you werent rubbing my back, saying i love you and maybe you werent hoping secretly id be too drunk to hear it. maybe you didnt carry me from sickness to the floor- over the threshhold- maybe you didnt lie me there and kiss my head. maybe i didnt apologize a dozen times for being such a lush. maybe we didnt fumble our hands all over each other. maybe we you didnt try to get me off as i slipped into slumber. maybe i didnt pass out with your tongue in my cunt. maybe i didnt wake up to you snoring next to me. maybe i didnt have a headache the next day. maybe we didnt walk home in silence, both wondering what happened the night before. maybe we both didnt know we'd stumbled into something... something good and sweet and lasting longer than either one of us could tell. maybe we didnt know how painful itd be. how awful and happy and goddamned sad itd make us both.
and maybe this is all i can take. maybe coming face to face with it is more than i can bear. maybe i should just
stop.
