A red plastic cup: a symbol of drunken “fun”.
I’m lost is this sad little masquerade.
These moments I’ll soon wish to be undone.
Until that time, I’ll suck down the booze, brave.
The blunt was passed to the left, to my lips.
The familiar smell invaded my lungs
As I smiled and inhaled, this great bliss.
And then he came to me, I took the plunge.
He thought he made the moves to make me fall
But, shh, it was just my lack of sobriety.
The way I moaned, he thought I was in awe.
His too wet lips kissing mine annoyingly.
Its times like these I wish I had more sense.
But liquor knocks at the door, relentless.

The End

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