You reach my way, Delicate hands squeeze my socked foot. Meeting your eyes feels impossible. I swim in conversation and cannot Tread the waters of your desire And I sink into my third - or fourth? Whiskey shot As fear twists my guts. Fear wins. Sheepish hugs are my goodbyes And I fulfill my own Disappointment prophecy And a snowy drive carries me homeward. I wonder what might have been. I wish I could start again.


  • Luna Kay
  • Wocket

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