Intoxicated

42 // doorstep

you were drunk

when you agreed to take me out on a date

and part of me believed

you only agreed because you couldn’t think

clearly and wanted me to shut up.

i expected you to call, no, text

(i forget you don’t like to call and hear my

voice anymore)

and cancel our date

with some fucked up excuse of why you

couldn’t make it.

part of me doubted your presence,

fearing once i was ready for you-

you would be nowhere in sight.

but to my surprise,

oh how you seemed to surprise me

when i always doubted you most;

you showed up at my door

with your hands in your jacket pockets

and a grin on your face.

little did you know,

you’re easier to read than a

library book.

your grin was nothing but forced

and i could easily hear the sound of your

gritting teeth.