jump-cut,
you ‘n me ‘n a bottle of whiskey,
because you want me to be truthful.
you want me to be truthful.
truthful.
when I met you, you offered me and our best friend some ecstasy,
no, you promised it.
we had just drunk ‘n smoked ‘n ran our way from bluff to valley,
in my fantasies you smell of pine and taste like cigarettes.
truthful?
I’ve got half-cocked exaggerations bursting in my temples,
and I just, I just wanna tell you how beautiful you are,
you are
you are
you are
but that, that ain’t–
truthful.
I got all this shit,
I got nightmares I pretend don’t exist,
‘n I got no idea what to do next,
‘n I run ‘n run ‘n run.
truthful.
you smell like escape,
and you taste like long hard breaths in burning lungs.
you’ve got jokes ‘n quirks ‘n smiles where they count,
‘n shoulders ‘n ears where they don’t,
‘n you use both better than I ever, ever could.
I love you because I love cigarettes,
I love you because I love drinking too much,
I love you because I would rather hold it in than talk about it.
I love you because you know how that feels.
truthful:
I have no idea if that is worth building anything on.
But I think that you are the perfect escape,
and I want that more than anything.
