coffeewhiskey

I could always write, about a world I liked
A livid lie, comprised of curves that never expired
Induced like eyes, I loved like knots you could not untie
And she wore it like she was born with it
Like she was void of all those shallow attempts of a cigarette without a light,
Of a boy sleeping alone in a graveyard bed full of nights,
Where he merely read of others adventures
and of completely unfamiliar pleasures
So he procured for her a firefly in a jar
That burned like a cigarette in a bar
And the lifetime of a conversation
That lived under his tongue
Finally came out for the rent money
of love
At first they spoke,
And it choked
like the truth tasted horrible in their throats
Yet they came around to the lies they lived
And became the best worst lovers they had ever been
And they carried that firefly like a bible between them
And when it went out one day
Everything like the truth of light
Or the unknown
that darkness knows at night
Made all there best lies
once again their disguise
Like a cycle we've all seen
They returned to what it meant to them to be
And who ever they were while it burnt
Well I wish I knew,
But if there is anything a firefly, a match or a light has given us
It is the truth.


This is me teaching myself to write drunk.
about a couple that lives in lies, then finds themeselves in light (and truth)
and when it burns out they become who they were.