your breath smelled of alcohol,
while your clothes stained burnt wood and ash,
you always had a hard time with booze in your hand.
to be honest, you were keeping me more warm
than the bonfire lit in front of us.
everyone was talking,
yelling at the top of their lungs, laughing,
as if we were miles apart,
drowning out the ocean waves a few feet behind us.
this was now our normal
and every time my focus was locked on
you.
YOU ARE READING
Intoxicated
RomantikA boy, a girl, and a bottle of booze. © tilmorning. The third installment, following the stories 'something' & 'where we fell'.
